


A Challenge is a Challenge

by WinterAssassin



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: And everyone in between - Freeform, Awkwardness, Barrel-Rides, Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Courtship, Crushes, Depression, Durincest, Dwarven Ones | Soulmates, Dwarves, Elves, Family, Friendship/Love, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Multi, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Uneasy Allies, mentions of knife-play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22584175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterAssassin/pseuds/WinterAssassin
Summary: For some reason, I wanted to do a 100 Theme Challenge: The Hobbit Edition. ^^This work will contain different pairings and the like - but probably have a lot of Thorin, Fíli, Kíli, Dwalin, and everyone's favorite elf, Legolas. ☺ With appearances from many characters, as well. Wish me luck.Enjoy ♥----12.Medicine: Dwalin/LegolasDwalin, along with a handful of others, is visiting the Mirkwood Elves in celebration of King Thranduil’s birthday. The weapon’s master takes an interest in the elves’ training grounds and weaponry – and makes the mistake of accidentally poisoning himself.
Relationships: Dwalin/Fíli (Tolkien), Dwalin/Legolas Greenleaf, Kili/Fili, Kíli/Legolas Greenleaf, Thorin Oakenshield/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 23
Kudos: 75





	1. Beginnings - Thorin/Legolas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas fails to realize that he is being courted by none other than Thorin Oakenshield and when he finds out, he is unsure of what to do or what will come of it.

Legolas stared at the plate of food in front of him.

His usual appetite was gone since he was in unknown territory; housed in the mountain of Erebor. A year has passed since the Battle for the Mountain and much has happened. The dwarves became allies with Bard and the Men of Lake-Town, who were now living in Dale. Together the races of dwarves and men worked to restore their once-great homes. With the passing time, they accomplished much – especially with the aid from Legolas’ father, Thranduil.

The uneasy alliance between King Thorin and King Thranduil was a new one. It was fleeting in nature; but that is why Legolas was at Erebor. On behalf of his father, Legolas was sent to negotiate over the peace and alliance between their Kingdoms – to work out a deal for trading, as well. Bard, now King of Dale, was to be apart of these meeting. Legolas knew his father did not mind the Men as they had become fast allies against Thorin and his kin.

Legolas’ thoughts were reigned in when someone knocked on the table in front of him. The elven prince raised his head and stared at the dwarf in front of him. Inwardly, he panicked. Outwardly, he kept his aloof expression. The reasoning behind his panic was the dwarf in front of him was Thorin’s younger sister – whose name he happened to _forget_.

Legolas smiled as he greeted her. “Good morning.” He said coolly, as if he did not forget King Thorin’s sister’s name. The female dwarf took a seat and stared hard at him. Her gaze softened after a few moments, her dark blue eyes sparkling with wet tears that threatened to fall. Legolas continued to panic on the inside. “ _Uhm_ ,”

She shook her head, braids bouncing from her hair. “I’m sorry, laddie,” She apologized as she wiped at her eyes. “Thorin has told me of the many times you saved him. And I just-...” The woman sighed and gently clasped the elf’s hand. “I’m just grateful that you managed to keep my idiot brother alive.”

Legolas stared at the bearded woman, absorbing her words slowly. He was not expecting her to say anything about Thorin, truth be told. Now, he did not know what to say. “I see.” Legolas whispered.

The woman stood and brushed her hair back over her shoulder and smiled. “I just wanted to properly say thank you for helping him. Thorin’s a little rough around the edges and despite _begrudgingly_ thanking you, he is grateful, too.” Her words made Legolas smile.

“I am glad I was there to help. I am not sure if he mentioned it but your brother has saved my life a few times, as well.” Legolas went quiet as he thought back to the dwarven king stopping an orc from cutting him down during their river escape. Of course there was the time when Legolas fought Bolg and Thorin had used his only weapon of defence to fell a goblin mercenary and knock Bolg back just in time.

Legolas was glad he was able to return the favor.

The fair-skinned prince roused himself from his reminiscent memories and watched as the sister of Thorin just giggled at him. He arched his brow, confused as to why she was laughing at him. “I am sorry...?” He apologized, suddenly unsure of what was happening.

She shook her head again, silencing her giggles. “No, it is me who should be sorry. I just noticed the necklace you are wearing.” The dwarven woman motioned to the piece of jewelry Legolas wore.

Legolas followed her gaze and stared at the silver woven stringed necklace decorated with small, blue sapphire jewels. He looked back up to her, eyes narrowed quizzically. “Yes, King Thorin gave it to me. I assume it was for a symbol of peace...” Legolas trailed off, still unsure. Perhaps that was not what it was? Or maybe she thought he looked foolish for wearing such jewelry?

Again, she giggled.

Legolas flushed in spite of himself.

“Sorry, laddie,” She covered her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles. “It’s just those are the King’s jewels. If my brother gave those to you it was not as a symbol of peace.” At Legolas’ confused face, she elaborated in a hushed voice. “I think he’s meaning to court you.”

_Court you._

Those words echoed in Legolas’ mind. He lowered his gaze back to his untouched food, at a loss for words. His cheeks were still flushed, or rather flushed even more from her words. If they were true, Legolas would have a lot of explaining to do to his father. He never expected this to happen. In the very least, the elven prince never expected to be courted by a dwarf – much less the King Under the Mountain, Thorin Oakenshield.

“Oh,” The dwarven woman piped up, pulling Legolas’ attention to her once more. She leaned forward and gave him a pleasant smile. “By the way, in case you have forgotten, my name is Dís.” Dís gave him a bow of her head before she took her leave.

Legolas watched her leave the Hall of Shields, humming to herself. He turned back to his breakfast and wondered what he felt more embarrassed about – the fact that King Thorin was _courting_ him or the fact that Dís _knew_ he forgot her name. Legolas sighed and stood up. He decided to head back to his accommodations, finding that his lost appetite was entirely demolished.

The fair-haired elf retreated to his room to think over things since the next meeting he was due to was not until the afternoon. So he had time to loiter around his room. Legolas nodded to the dwarves that passed and greeted him, though he remained silent. He made to his room and entered, closing the door softly behind him. Legolas leaned against the door and sighed softly. His lithe fingers reached up to the necklace and he idly played with it, lost in his thoughts.

Legolas bit his bottom lip, a habit he did when he was nervous, which was rare in itself. He took a seat at the chair near the fireplace and stared at the glowing coals.

The alliance between his father and Thorin was just beginning to bloom and Legolas feared if he denied the courtship between the Mountain King and himself, he would ruin everything. He viewed the alliance as something fragile; birthed from two King’s wanting to do better – _to be better_ – than their past selves. Legolas did not want his decision to be the cause of their broken alliance.

He sighed and buried his face in his hands, wondering what else would happen that day.

The prince of Mirkwood peered down at the necklace and wondered if Thorin truly meant to give it to him as a gift of courtship. Or if it was a gift as thanks? A gift of peace between their feuding races? Whatever the answer was, Legolas knew he had to confront Thorin about it. He did not want to be left guessing and wondering, knowing it would drive him mad.

Legolas made the decision to confront Thorin about it in the evening, after the meetings were done for the day.

♦ ♦ ♦

Legolas stood when there was a faint knock on his door.

He opened it and saw Thorin’s oldest heir, Fíli. He raised his eyebrow as he exited his room, telling the dwarf prince, “I have been here for a few days and I am not in need of an escort. Also you need not worry for I will not steal anything.”

Fíli stepped out of the way but faltered at Legolas’ words. “No, that’s not it. Uncle– ah, _Thorin_ , just wants to make sure you are...” The golden haired prince fell silent, not sure of what to say. “Well-kept? Or, he does not want anyone to trouble you. I guess.” Fíli made a face, still unsure of how to word it.

Legolas laughed softly as the pair began to make their way to the Meeting Hall. “I assure you, prince Fíli, I will not let anyone _trouble_ me.” The elven prince was about to take care of himself. Although he would not do anything out-right disarming to threaten the alliance, he would take certain measures in self defence.

Fíli nodded his understanding, the quizzical expression on his face gone and replaced with something along the lines of relief. “Aye,” He agreed. “I told him you could handle yourself. Also, you can just call me Fíli.”

Legolas paused and stared down at the golden-haired dwarf. “All right. Then you may address me as Legolas, if you wish.” With that, the two princes continued their journey to the Meeting Hall.

♦ ♦ ♦

When the council meeting was over and done with, Legolas stood and thought about the decisions made during said meeting. They managed to work out a good trade deal between Mirkwood, Erebor and Dale. The treaty was also coming along well, Legolas knew his father would be pleased to hear about it – and even more so pleased that he did not have to come attend to the task himself.

It made Legolas roll his eyes because he could be doing better things then playing messenger for his father. But he knew it was important for all Kingdoms involved. So in the end, Legolas found he did not mind. Although there was the other matter...

Legolas watched as the last of the men and dwarves shuffled out of the room, leaving him alone with the King Under the Mountain and his most loyal adviser and friend, Balin. The fair-skinned elf resisted the urge to grab and toy with the necklace as he turned to Thorin, clearing his throat to catch his attention. “May I speak with you, King Thorin?”

At his question, Legolas could see the older dwarf give Thorin a look. The King waved his hand and Balin gave a nod before taking his leave. The room was silent as the two stood on opposite ends, separated by a long table. The elven prince could tell Thorin was avoiding his gaze, the dwarf King stopping by a chair and resting his hand on the top. Finally, he turned his stormy-blue orbs onto Legolas. The dwarven King’s eyes flickered to the sapphire necklace Legolas wore, his lips parting as if he were about to say something, although nothing come out.

Legolas walked around the table and ended up in front of the dwarf King. “King Thorin, I–”

“Just Thorin,” Thorin interjected, casting his eyes away from the elf and to the fire place which blazed bright. “You have saved my skin so it’s only proper.”

Legolas blinked. He nodded, slowly, still unsure of everything. “I talked with your sister earlier – Dis – and she said something interesting.”

“Did she?” Thorin got a dark look in his eyes. Not of anger but of annoyance – a typical feeling between siblings revealing secrets. Thorin had an idea of where this was going but he still feigned innocence. He eyed the elven warrior, asking quietly, “What did my sister have to say?”

“She said this gift was given to me in a courting-nature,” Said Legolas.

Thorin held his gaze. Legolas continued, “Those were her words. I suppose I just want to hear it from you, yourself... On whether that is what you intended or if it was just a misunderstanding.” The elven prince explained.

The King Under the Mountain stared at the elf, his dark blue eyes cool and calculating. He tore his gaze away, back to watching the fire crackle and flicker. “And what if my sister’s words rang true?”

Legolas stared. Again, he was at a loss for words and actions. He did not know what to make of the dwarven King’s intentions. He had not realized the dwarf even had feelings for him that were not of suspicion or animosity. Legolas sighed. “Truthfully, I am not certain what to make of your... courtship. When I think of it, I cannot help but be curious and want to accept but then there is another voice which tells me if I refuse, it will destroy the alliance you and my father have worked hard for.”

Thorin nodded. “Aye,” He spoke softly, “I have thought much about such similar things but have come to the conclusion that my... _feelings_ are true in nature. You needn’t return my feelings, however it does gladden me to hear of your curiosity.” The King smiled. Or perhaps it was a smirk, Legolas was never sure when it came to the headstrong dwarf.

Legolas lowered his gaze to his feet, his fingers pulling at the fabric end of his pale blue jacket. “I will think about it. Of course there is the matter of my father...” The prince smirked. He has already done much to anger his father, he figured another thing like getting courted by a dwarf King who was once his enemy was just something else he would find annoying. The fair-skinned warrior paused and tilted his head, asking, “Why _have_ you taken an interest in me, anyway?”

Thorin stared at him. He looked away as he gave his explanation, “You have proven yourself to be quite the warrior, for an elven prince.” He quipped. “You have saved my life and I yours and... I guess it just stemmed from there.” Thorin gave him a wary look, as if exposing his secrets was cause for concern.

“I see.” Said Legolas.

A few moments of silence passed between the two. The elven warrior and prince of Mirkwood came to a decision. He stepped forward, closing the distance between him and the King Under the Mountain. “I suppose I am interested in such dwarven courting rituals, so you may attempt to charm me. Though I will not be the one to tell my father.” Legolas added the last part cheekily.

Thorin scoffed. “Of course not, it is my duty as the one courting you to seek acceptance from your father.” He held his head high, as if it would not be an issue. The dwarf reached forward and grasped the elven prince’s hand, holding the smooth and lithe hand tight in his grasp. He looked Legolas in the eyes, whispering, “I guess this is me officially stating that I will be making an attempt to court you, Legolas Greenleaf. Or, charm you, as you put it.”

Legolas laughed lightly at that. “Then I guess this is me officially saying for you to do as you please, Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain.”

The dark haired dwarf smirked and pulled the elf’s hand up to his mouth, placing a kiss to the back of his hand. “Be careful, those words can be taken the wrong way,” Thorin warned. Legolas rolled his eyes playfully as he retracted his hand.

“Well, now that we got that settled and I am not as confused as I was earlier on today... I say you should send word to my father.” The fair-haired prince smiled down at Thorin.

Thorin faltered, grimacing slightly at the thought of having to deal with the likes of Thranduil so soon. He did not object, though – for it was something that needed to be done, anyway. Besides, Thorin was a dwarf. He was stubborn and never backed down from a challenge. He told Legolas with confidence, “I will.”

“ _Good_.”

“Good.”


	2. Humor - Gen. [Thorin, Fíli and Kíli]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is sick and regrets enlisting the help of Kíli.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in the Blue Mountains, years before the quest.

Thorin coughed hard, his head reeling from the painful fit.

His chest ached and his head swam. His throat burned and not even his sisters tea could help the hurt. But at least it was warm and comforting. He rubbed at his chest, wishing that the aches and pains would go away already. Dwarves rarely got sick but when they did it was bad and Thorin has been sick for nearly a week and this nasty cold kept him from his work and duties. Luckily, Fíli had agreed to take over the remaining work that needed to be done in the smithy. Thorin knew he could always count on the young lad. His brother, however...

Thorin craned his neck to where Kíli was. He watched his sister's youngest son walk out of the kitchen with an ale in hand. The dark haired heir paused and looked at Thorin, staring at his uncle. Thorin cleared his throat, knowing if he did not do so then it would only pain him more to talk. "Kíli, it isn't even mid-day and you're already drinking?" He asked, his baritone voice scratchy to his ears.

" _Uhm_ ," Kíli looked down to his mug. He gave his uncle a look, "Did you want some?"

"No," Thorin sighed. "I do not want any." In truth, Thorin would have loved some ale. But he hardly thought it was good to be drinking while being as sick as a dog. He rubbed his temple, his head splitting. "Perhaps you can get me more tea?"

Kíli nodded quickly and went back into the kitchen.

Normally, Dís would have been home and taking care of him but seeing as Fíli was already busy in the smithy and Kíli was, well - _Kíli_ \- Thorin left his other duties to Balin and Dís. He knew everything was in good hands because he trusted his kin very much. Just then, a crash sounded in the kitchen, making him cringe. "Kíli, what happened?" The dark haired prince sighed.

"Uhh," Kíli's voice called from the kitchen, nearly drowned out from the obvious sound of glass being swept up. "Nothing!"

Thorin shrugged and just wondered what that kid managed to break this time. He thought of how his sister would somehow find a way to blame him, despite him being the sick one. He always says she babied Kíli too much but she would not listen. Thorin smiled to himself. He thought of when he would be better, how he would get Dwalin to train Kíli more often. He knew Dís did not want the poor lad to be unable to protect himself, so it was a good reason to have Kíli train more with Dwalin. Even with his brother; Thorin knew his two sister-sons would be quite the team if trained properly. They could be a force to be reckoned with.

"Uncle," The sound of Kíli's voice brought him from his thoughts. He looked to see his dark haired heir holding a cup of steaming tea. "I may have accidentally broken the pot... But I found something else to use, so it's all good."

"I see," Thorin murmured as he accepted the cup from Kíli.

Before he could take a sip, his golden-haired heir came in. Kíli visibly brightened at the sight of his brother and trotted over, taking his coat from him. "Welcome back, Fí!"

"Thank you, Kí." Fíli sounded spent. He stifled a yawn and walked into the house after kicking off his boots. He stretched and finally noticed Thorin. "Oh, uncle. I managed to finish the orders in time, so you needn't worry about that for a few days, at least."

"Good job, Fíli." Thorin nodded. "Hopefully I will recover from this blasted cold soon. I'm almost missing being stuck in the smithy for days on end..."

Fíli snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure I will miss it so much when you get back in." He joked. Fíli sat down across from his uncle and looked around the room. "Is mother still at the hall with Balin?" Thorin nodded. "Oh, okay..."

With Dís being away constantly, it usually meant no dinner. Although sometime's the three got lucky and Bombur would have one of his children come by and drop off some food if they had extra. But as of late, Bombur was away on business which left them hungry. Of course, there was still cheese, bread, fruit and some vegetables they could eat, but that got old very quick. The exiled prince missed his sister's cooking, especially the stew she would make. Thorin sighed again but not without wincing from the twinge of pain in his throat. He remembered the tea Kíli had given him and watched the steam rise in the air.

While the two brothers conversed, Thorin raised the warm cup and blew on it softly before putting to his lips and taking a sip.

The tea swished in his mouth and when he swallowed, it warmed his throat. After a second, Thorin made a face. He looked down at the tea in his hands, staring. He sniffed it but found that it smelled like normal tea. The taste, however, was odd. It did not taste like the tea Dís prepared for him earlier. Cautiously, he took another sip, this one smaller than the last. Again, he was met with an odd taste that he could not name.

When he heard Kíli and Fíli laughing, Thorin looked up. His eyes instantly went to Kíli and he spoke up. "Kíli, what did you put in this tea?" He asked.

Kíli turned his attention to his uncle, his brow furrowed. "Nothing. Just the tea, hot water, and some honey."

Thorin hummed in response. It was exactly the same as what Dís did. He did not understand why it was so different suddenly. Thorin took a few moments to study the warm liquid silently. He shrugged and took another sip, figuring that maybe he was just going crazy. He thought that maybe his scratchy throat had something to do with the sudden change. Or maybe that Kíli did not wait long for the tea to steep. That was probably it, he mused.

"Oh!" Kíli grinned, whipping his head back to Thorin. "I forgot. I broke the pot so I had to make it in the big bowl on the counter."

Thorin spat out the liquid, spraying his nephew's.

Fíli gasped while Kíli sat there, looking shocked. Thorin wiped his mouth and croaked, "What bowl? The one we use for the dishes?"

Kíli nodded.

Fíli groaned. "Kí, that is used for the dirty dishes! Please tell me you did not use it for uncle's tea...?"

The dark haired heir frowned as he defended himself, "Yeah, so? All the other bowls and pots are dirty!"

"Yes, because they have yet to be washed in _that_ bowl!" Fíli retorted, lightly smacking Kíli upside the head. "I can't believe you did that..." The fair-haired heir bit his lip, his shoulders shaking slightly as he tried to hold back his giggles. When Kíli finally clued in that he used a dirty bowl to make Thorin's tea, his confused and guarded look melted into one of amusement.

Thorin groaned and put the cup of tea down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I knew it tasted odd. Now I know that it was the taste of dirty water."

Both Fíli and Kíli burst into giggles.

Thorin narrowed his dark blue eyes at them, not finding it funny in the least. "I am glad you can see the humor in this, sister-sons." His words should have been a faint warning, as he meant them to be, but the pair just started laughing harder. Thorin felt his eye twitch in annoyance but after a minute of their loud and boisterous laughter, it finally got to him and he cracked a smile. He added, "It is not _that_ funny."

"Le- Leave it to Kíli to accidentally try and poison our uncle!" Fíli managed to spit out in his fits of laughter.

Kíli cracked up even more, falling back and rolling on the ground by his brother's feet. "I- I'm sorry, uncle!" He sputtered, covering his redden face. "I- I was _not_ thinking and, _and_ -!" The dark haired heir could not finish, his laughter overtaking him. Fíli wheezed above Kíli, nearly doubling over. He used Kíli as a brace to stop himself from falling off his chair and onto the ground. Fíli reached up and wiped a tear from his eye, "Oh, brother..."

Thorin snorted at the two and shook his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day ♥


	3. Drama - Kíli/Legolas [1/2]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after the reclaiming of Erebor, Kíli is still set on courting the prince of Mirkwood, Legolas. Although first he must inform the elf of his feelings.

Kíli was not sure when it happened – but oh, did it happen.

The dark haired prince truly believed he was in love with Tauriel. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, if she would have him. But somewhere along the way, sometime after the battle and reclaiming their home-land, somewhere in the many trades and treaties he was forced to attend – it all changed. He noticed things – things about Prince Legolas that he never noticed before. Things that upset him greatly because Kíli was not in love with _him,_ he was in love with Tauriel.

But as days turned to weeks and weeks into months, the less Kíli saw of Tauriel and the more he saw of Legolas. And at some point in those days the dwarven heir realized his feelings shifted from the strong and beautiful captain of the guard, Tauriel, to the fierce and highly skilled archer, Legolas. Not to mention, Kíli was very grateful to the elven prince since he helped Thorin more than once during the quest for Erebor. From what he understood, Thorin also repaid the favor, saving Legolas' life in return.

Kíli sighed wistfully. He wished he could have a romance like that. Not that Thorin and Legolas had any sort of feelings other than annoyance for each other. He supposed that he just loved the idea of having someone to protect, and having them do the same for you. Again, Kíli sighed.

In the end, Kíli decided that he would court the elven prince next he saw him – which would be in about a day or so. It all depended on the traveling conditions, you see. Kíli was both very nervous and excited. Nervous because he did not know if the fair-haired elf even liked him as a friend and excited because, well – he has been waiting a while for the chance to court Legolas. He was worried that Legolas would rebuff his affections but still, Kíli needed to try in the very least. If he did not try then maybe he would miss an opportunity and he would not accept that.

Kíli marched to his brother's room and was about to pound on the door but halted. He tilted his head and thought about what he wanted to discuss with his brother. Fíli already knew of his feelings for the elf, since Kíli just had to tell someone about it. He did not like keeping it bottled in for so long. Since his brother knew, Kíli figured he should ask Fíli on how to go about courting the elven prince. But then he thought about Thorin and it made him groan.

Eventually, Thorin would find out and Kíli preferred it to be from him. He did not want anyone spreading rumors or his uncle walking in on something he should not have. So the dark haired heir walked from his brother's door and tip-toed up to his uncle's door. He stared at the heavy oak door and wrung his hands together, suddenly nervous. ‘ _What if uncle doesn't approve? He should, though, shouldn't he? I mean, we are trying to be allies with the elves. That's why King Thranduil has sent Legolas to do negotiations on his behalf... Right?_ ’

A million thoughts raced about his head and before he had the chance to focus on one thought, the door before him opened and revealed a tired-looking Thorin. Kíli sputtered, “Un- Uncle! Sorry, did I disturb you? I can go, I–”

Thorin rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Kíli, just come in. I know something is bothering you and you wish to discuss it with me...”

Kíli faltered, asking, “Did Fíli tell you?”

“No,” Said Thorin. The King Under the Mountain stepped aside to let his nephew in. “I just know,” Thorin stated justly.

Kíli stared and walked into Thorin's room. He looked around, realizing that he has never really seen his uncle's room. He turned from the fire place and took a seat at the long, square table opposite of the bed. The dark haired prince chewed his lip and watched his uncle move to stoke the fire before turning his attention to him. Kíli gulped. He looked away as he spoke, “Uncle... I-... I have these feelings... for an elf.”

Thorin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, I know. You seem to be quite infatuated with that elf-maiden...”

Kíli quickly shook his head, shooting up in his seat. “No! _No_... Uhm, it's a different elf.” He cringed at Thorin's reaction. It was too late to go back now, he would just have to push through. He wet his lips as he continued, “It is... _He_ is... The prince, Legolas.” Kíli shut his eyes as he waited for the explosive reaction that was sure to come from his uncle. When there was no sound, no vocal dismay or anger-inducing shatter, the dwarven heir peeked up at Thorin.

Thorin just stood still, staring down at Kíli. “For some reason, I am not surprised...”

“That's all you have to say!?” Kíli huffed, shocked as to why Thorin was not angry or upset with him having feelings for an elven prince who was once their enemy. Kíli was caught between pacing around the room or just collapsing back in his chair. The dark haired heir groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands, wondering where it all went wrong. “Uncle...”

“While I cannot say I necessarily approve of your... choice of mate, I will leave the decision of what you wish to do about it in your hands.” Thorin said slowly. He briefly wondered if that was such a good idea but decided that it was in the end. He just hoped Kíli’s feelings were true for the elven prince because he did not want anything to go bad and possibly put their tender alliance at risk.

Kíli stared up at his uncle, his dark brown eyes searching Thorin’s face. When Thorin raised his brow, Kíli looked away with a small smile on his face. “Thank you, uncle. I think I wish to court him...”

Thorin nodded and scratched his beard in thought. “Legolas is due to be here in a day or so. Have you crafted anything to gift him? Would he... want or _wear_ courting beads?” The King looked perplexed. He has never seen a dwarf-elf pair before but it could have happened. Anything was possible.

Kíli stared at his uncle and lowered his head. “I have not made anything yet... And I am not sure if he would? Actually, I don’t even know if he likes me in that way.” Kíli winced. He tried thinking back to the times he was around the prince. It would always usually involve matters of the alliance; treaties and trades, the two were never really alone together. As far as Kíli was concerned, Legolas just saw him as another prince, a royal to pretend and play nice with.

Kíli groaned and collapsed in the chair, letting his head hit the table with a soft thunk. “I guess I should just start with ‘ _Hey, somewhere along the way I developed feelings for you – do you like me? At all, I mean?_ ’... Or something like that.” Kíli sighed as he sat up straight and peered at Thorin for counselling.

Thorin looked amused as he walked over and patted Kíli’s shoulder gently. “Just let him know of your feelings. Wait for him to respond in his own time; you do not want to pressure him to make some rash decision or anything. If he returns your feelings, or accepts them and wishes to see where it can go, then go ahead and announce your wish to court him.”

Kíli nodded slowly. He paused, squinting up at his uncle. “But what if he rebuffs my feelings and affections? What if he thinks I’m gross and disgusting?” The thought of Legolas seeing him as such made his heart ache painfully. Kíli sank in the chair, a frown on his face. He mumbled, “I’m not sure I can go on knowing I’m rejected...”

Thorin tilted his head. “Kíli... What is it exactly that you feel when you see or are around Prince Legolas?”

“Uhm,” Kíli looked up to Thorin. “I don’t know... I guess warm and fuzzy?” He joked. His smile melted when he saw the serious look Thorin was giving him. He cleared his throat and tore his gaze away from his uncle. “I’m not sure how to explain it, uncle.”

The young heir leaned back in his chair, his mind filling with thoughts of the fair-haired elven warrior. “I just feel... _different..._ around him. My heart starts racing and it’s really difficult to act normal, let me tell you that. I get nervous and sometimes I do something stupid or say something weird.” Kíli took a moment to breath. “Also once my hand accidentally brushed his hand and it was magical.”

Kíli finally turned his brown eyes back to Thorin. He leaned forward to get a better look at his uncles face, squinting his eyes as he tried to read his expression. “Is that bad, uncle?” Thorin looked to him. Kíli tilted his head.

“Not bad,” Thorin began. “Not really... I,” He paused, wondering what to say to Kíli. Thorin coughed. “Kíli, do you think that maybe Legolas is your One?”

“One?” Kíli echoed.

Thorin nodded. Kíli looked to the crackling fire and chewed his bottom lip. “I did not know an elf could be a dwarf’s _One_.”

“It _is_ unheard of,” Thorin supplied. “But I am not saying it is completely impossible. Not to mention there has never been any recorded information of a dwarf and an elf being together, much less of the elf being a dwarf’s _One._ ”

Kíli sighed. “This is all making my head hurt...” The youngest heir pushed himself out of the chair and smoothed the wrinkles from his clothes. He turned to Thorin, announcing, “I am just going to let him know of my... _feelings_. Then I guess I’ll see how it goes from there...” With that, Kíli spun around and fled Thorin’s chambers.

He walked down the hall and straight into his room. Kíli took a seat on his bed and stared at his hands. He looked around his room and heaved another sigh before getting up and leaving his bedroom. He crossed the hall and went straight into Fíli’s room.

Fíli looked up from his desk, eyes narrowed. “Kí, what did I say about knocking?” Kíli rolled his eyes as he plopped down on his brother’s bed. Fíli sighed and put his quill away, giving his brother his full attention. “Okay, brother – what do you need?”

Kíli bit his lip and remained silent. He was not sure how he wanted to tell Fíli and was even a little afraid of how his brother will react. Fíli’s cool and calculating blue eyes studied his face and Kíli’s silent resolve broke as he spilled his words, “Fí, I am in love with an elf. And no, it is not Tauriel – it’s Legolas. I know, it’s _odd._ He– I,... _Ehm_ , you–” Kíli tilted his head up to his brother, “Will you help me make a gift for him?”

Fíli inhaled sharply and began to choke on his spit, inciting a coughing fit. Kíli stood up and flailed, not sure if he should run over and smack his brother’s back or get him something to drink. Fíli just waved his hand as he leaned forward, patting his chest. “I’m fine...” He croaked, “Just startled.”

Kíli made a face. “I’m sorry, brother...”

“It’s fine,” Replied Fíli.

The older heir wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned his attention back to Kíli. He eyed his brother as he thought back to what Kíli said, before he started a coughing fit. Fíli hummed. “The elven prince...” He whispered.

Kíli nodded. Fíli frowned, “Why are you asking me to help you make him a gift? A courting gift is something you should make yourself, and _by Mahal_ – I just realized you want to court him, right?” The blond haired dwarf leaned back in his chair, absorbing all this new information.

When Kíli nodded, Fíli breathed out slowly. “I knew it would come to this... I just was not sure when.” He muttered under his breath. Despite his quiet voice, Kíli still heard him. The younger brother gave him a quizzical look, which Fíli answered, “Kí, I’ve noticed the looks you give him – whether or not you notice it yourself. They are different from the looks you’ve given that elf-maiden.” Fíli noted.

The darker haired brother looked away, feeling abashed. “I know... Also, uncle thinks that he could be my One.” Kíli thought back to the conversation he just had with their uncle. “At least, when I told him of my feelings for Legolas, he wondered if I thought of him as my One. When now that I am thinking about it even more, I know what I felt for Tauriel and what I feel for Legolas now are very different.”

Fíli just stared at his younger brother. Kíli felt his blue eyes boring into him, so Kíli turned and raised his eyebrow to Fíli. “What?” He huffed, a pout on his face.

The golden haired dwarf smiled and shook his head. “I was going to say that was a very adult thing to say, Kí. Very mature. But that face you made at the end ruined it and now you are back to being my little, annoying brother.” Fíli teased.

“Ha, ha.” Kíli rolled his eyes. The dark haired prince lowered his gaze to his lap, his fingers pulling at the frayed ends of his jacket. “Also I’m not very good in the forge. I thought you could help me, or at least show me how to make something. He is going to be here soon and I am freaking out a bit...”

“I understand, brother. So, what are you going to do?” Fíli wondered.

Kíli peered at his brother. “I was planning to inform him of my feelings... Then see where it goes from there, I guess.” He shrugged and fell back onto Fíli’s bed, staring at the stony-ceiling. “Uncle suggested I tell him and let him think it over,” Kíli rolled onto his side and stared at his brother, he asked, “Should I make courting beads? What if I make them and he doesn’t return my feelings? Or what if he does like me but doesn’t like the beads? Do elves even have courting rituals? How different are they from ours? What if–”

“Kí!” Fíli interrupted his brother. “Everything will be fine. He is staying for a couple weeks, right? So there will be plenty of time to craft gifts and beads.”

“Yes, _but_ what if he doesn’t feel the same as I?” Kíli asked miserably. He rest his arms over his eyes, welcoming the dark. “Also I don’t want to ruin the fragile bond between our races.”

Fíli smiled. “You are growing up.” He commented, making Kíli groan. Fíli eyed his sullen brother before looking away, playing with the papers on his desk. “It will be fine. Call it older brother’s intuition, okay? Just think of what it will be like braiding his hair, or something.”

The brown eyed prince smiled wistfully. “Yeah... His hair must be soft and silky. I wonder how the elves manage to keep their hair so neat... Mine gets all tangled and dirty within a day.” Kíli mumbled as he pulled at a piece of his hair. He thought of Legolas’ long, silvery-blond hair and sighed softly again.

Fíli rolled his eyes at his brother’s dreamy smile and picked up his quill, intent on getting back to his duties. “Now, dear brother – if that is all you needed, will you let me get back to work?”

“Fine. But you _will_ show me how to make something cool tomorrow.” Kíli swung his legs and hoisted himself up off his brother’s bed. He marched to the door and stopped, turning to look at Fíli. “Thanks, Fí.”

“Good night, Kí.”

“Night, brother.”

♥ ♥ ♥

Kíli stared at the beads in the small, wooden-carved box in his hand. He looked up to the door he currently stood in front of and tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. His heart pattered abnormally fast and just when Kíli began to debate on whether or not he should leave, the door opened to reveal the elven prince, Legolas. Kíli’s lips parted but no words came out. He shut his mouth and stared at the prince, all the while slowly putting the box back into his pocket.

Legolas stared down at him, his expression unreadable. He eyed the dwarf with his icy-blue eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you need something, prince Kíli? You have been standing there for at least five minutes.”

Kíli’s eyes widened. “You know my name...” He whispered, causing the elf to give him an odd look. “ _Uhh_ ,” He shook his head, clearing his mind, “Sorry, I... Wait, how do you know how long I’ve been standing here? I mean, I could have just arrived.” He tried to play it cool.

Legolas arched his brow. “Elves have excellent hearing, I’m afraid.”

Kíli resisted the urge to curse at himself.

The silvery-blond haired elf sighed and stepped aside, inviting Kíli into his room. “I am assuming you have something to tell me.”

Kíli laughed as he walked inside, “Hah, _yeah_ – about that...” Once he was in Legolas’ chambers, he resisted the urge to look around and pry, instead focusing his attention on the elf in front of him. “I do indeed have something to tell you...”

Legolas tilted his head, a curious expression on his face. Kíli swore his heart nearly skipped a beat. He swallowed hard and pushed himself to continue. “You see, or – _well_ , I, _erm_...” He faltered, tongue tied. Kíli took a breath and squeezed his eyes shut, trying a different approach.

“You remember a year ago, like during the time of the quest?” Kíli peaked to see Legolas nod his head. He continued, “Well, you know how I was kind of really into, uhm, Tauriel?” For a moment, even Kíli wondered where his explanation was going. Legolas was certainly losing his interest in the matter, by the looks of it.

Yet, the elf remained patient so Kíli continued. “After a while those feelings faded and now I realize what I felt for her was different. Perhaps still love, but certainly not the kind of love I feel for you...” The dark haired dwarven prince chanced a look at Legolas.

The elven prince stared at him, his light blue eyes wide. Kíli looked away, intent on still explaining his feelings. “Over time, the more I saw of you and the less of her, I realized that there were these things about you, or things you would do, that I found adorable. Slowly I noticed that my feelings changed and now I am sure I am in love with you... That you may even be my One.” Kíli smiled softly. “I think that because of the time our hands accidentally brushed and it sent like a jolt of electricity through my veins... It made my heart race and my face warm and since then I’ve been a mess in front of you.”

Legolas looked away from Kíli, his mind racing with the words the dwarf just confessed to him. He thought back to one particular word, so he turned to question the dwarven prince. “What is a _one_?”

Kíli eyed Legolas. “It’s a dwarf thing, I think. I am not sure what it is for elves, but for us – for _me_ – it’s like... a soulmate? Like, deep inside I _know_ I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Standing in front of Legolas was making Kíli think deep of his feelings, deeper than when he had explained it to Thorin and Fíli.

“Anyway, that is all I wanted to say... You don’t need to respond now or feel pressured or anything. Just think about it, please. Bye for now.” Kíli turned around and took his leave of the elven prince.

He closed the door behind him with a soft click and leaned against it. His heart hammered in his chest and Kíli inwardly cursed himself because if he could hear it drumming in his ears than Legolas surely could. Kíli smiled. He was glad he got to convey his feelings to the elf properly; glad he did not back out or screw up in some way. He felt good about this.

Now, he just needed to let Legolas think about his confession. It irked him, having to wait for a response he did not know the answer to yet but he remembered Fíli saying that it would be okay. Kíli took a deep breath and calmed himself. He pushed himself off the door and walked to his room where he flung himself on his bed.

Kíli buried his face in his pillows, hiding the smile that refused to disappear from his face. He wished Legolas would accept his feelings quick and let him court him – drama and consequences, be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kíli is so adoraaabllleeee- _HNNNGGK._
> 
> Stay tuned for the next part!


	4. Scary - Kíli/Legolas [2/2]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a while!
> 
> But enjoy ♥

A few days passed since Kíli confessed his feelings to Legolas.

The dwarven heir was beginning to become relentless but did not lose hope. Although every time he saw the elf, be in at a meeting or passing by the halls, at dinner time or just before retiring to their own rooms, Kíli resisted the urge to speak to him about their discussion. Kíli forced himself to remain quiet on the matter and only speak to him about business and the like – he did not want Legolas to feel overwhelmed or pressured about all of this. So, he kept it professional.

Kíli would squeeze the wooden box he kept in his pocket, to remind him that it was okay and to not say something stupid whenever he saw the elven prince.

After another few days passed and needless to say, Kíli was quite happy and relieved at the same time when Legolas approached him in the training fields outside the mountain.

Kíli was practicing his shooting once Dwalin was finished training the younger dwarves. He had the field to himself and was glad because it meant he could concentrate fully on his archery, not be distracted by Dwalin’s shouting and the younger one’s stares. He was free to do as he pleased.

At least, up until he caught sight of Legolas walking up, causing Kíli to panic and release his arrow into a tree instead of the target.

The dwarven prince flushed, embarrassed from his missed shot. He retrieved his arrow and put it back in the quiver, slowly turning to the elven archer. “I’m actually better than that... You just surprised me.” Kíli explained.

Legolas looked amused.

Kíli swallowed.

The brown eyed prince tore his gaze away from the silvery-blond haired elf, wiping at his nose. “So, _uh_...” He fell silent, not wanting to outright ask him on whether or not Legolas came to confront him about their talk. Kíli awkwardly lowered his gaze, staring at his boots.

“I’ve thought long about what you said to me near a week ago.” Although Legolas spoke quietly, his voice was crystal clear to Kíli. His head shot up and he repressed the words that wanted to fly out of his mouth, opting to let the elven prince continue. His hand left his bow to reach into his pocket and squeeze the wooden box inside as Legolas continued, “When I first met you, I thought you were annoying and vexatious. But since the many meetings and discussions about our races and people, I have come to know and understand you better. While I cannot say I immediately reciprocate your feelings, I do respect you as a fellow prince and warrior.”

Kíli nodded slowly as he tried to wrap his head around the elf’s words. He squinted his eyes, finding himself a little confused. “So... Are you rejecting me? _Or._..”

Legolas lowered his head, a small smile on his face. “I am saying that I am interested to see where this could go.”

Kíli's mouth formed a circle as he whispered, “Oh...”

The dwarven prince’s face flushed, his cheeks burning. “That’s actually... Great. I mean, I hoped you wouldn’t reject me. _Uh_ , not that it would be _bad_ , I just– I...” Kíli caught himself rambling and shook his head. He cleared his throat and pulled the wooden box out from his pocket. “Here.”

Legolas stared at the box offered to him. He raised his brow but accepted the gift. “What is this?” He questioned, staring at the runes delicately carved into the wood. He studied the box and when Kíli did not say anything more, the elven prince opened it. Legolas stared at the pair of olive-sized metal beads, decorated with an arrow-head pattern. His lips parted as he studied the detail put into the gift from Kíli, the arrow heads sparkling in the sun from the use of diamonds.

“They are beautiful,” Legolas finally said.

Kíli grinned. “I wanted to use Mithril but didn’t have the time. Oh, also my brother kinda helped – _well_ , he instructed. I did most of the work.” The dark haired prince lowered his gaze, abashed. Kíli held his smile, happy to hear that Legolas liked them. He remembered telling Fíli of his worries; concerned that Legolas would hate them or find them ugly. But – he liked them, even said they were beautiful. Kíli almost wanted to tell him _beautiful like him_ but he held his tongue, not wanting to scare Legolas away.

“Am I to put them into my hair?” Legolas asked softly.

Kíli's head shot up. “Oh, _actually_ , they are... courting beads. So, I...” His smile fell as he realized that he forgot to tell Legolas of his intentions to court him. “Ahaha! Sorry, I meant to ask if you would let me court you, then give you this gift when you accepted, but it seems I messed that part up. Sorry.”

Despite his many apologies, Legolas did not look alarmed or upset or fazed about Kíli doing things in the wrong order. He simply smiled which made the dwarf’s heart skip a beat. It made his hands clammy and his face warm and Kíli really wondered if Legolas was surely his One. “Do you accept?”

“I accept.” Responded Legolas.

Kíli grinned. He found that his face was beginning to hurt from all the smiling he was doing but he was just so happy. “I’m glad...” Kíli said. “Oh yeah, about the beads. It’s kind of dwarven tradition for me to braid those into your hair.”

Legolas looked to the beads thoughtfully and nodded. “I see.” He ran his fingers through his soft, silvery-blond hair and wondered how his hairstyle would change. Not that he minded a change. Legolas looked to the smaller being and noticed Kíli staring at his hair. Legolas tilted his head, “What are you thinking of?”

“Of running my fingers through your soft, pretty hair.” Kíli blurted.

The dwarven prince faltered and flushed hotly. He spun around and clapped his hands over his face, intent on hiding his embarrassment. Kíli rushed to explain himself, “I’m sorry, that just came flying out. I don’t mean to be so forward, especially not a minute into officially becoming a courted pair.”

Legolas chuckled. “It’s fine,” He replied. Legolas closed the box and tucked it safely into his pocket before turning his full attention to Kíli. Legolas studied the dwarf before he lifted his hand to trace the leather strap of Kíli's jacket, acutely aware of the sharp intake of breath, and followed the stitched pattern further up until his fingers found the collar of Kíli's tunic.

The elf’s light blue eyes found Kíli's warm brown orbs. “You needn’t worry about being _forward,_ prince Kíli. I assure you I am not one to be scared easily.” Legolas smiled down at the dark haired prince once he let go of his tunic. The elf turned around and walked to the gates which lead back into the mountain.

Kíli stared after his elf, his heart pounding in its cavern. He swallowed and jogged after him, thinking that he could possibly be in over his head. “Where are you going?” Kíli asked Legolas once he caught up to him.

Legolas glanced at him briefly, “I assume you must inform your King of this? Also, I will need to talk to my father. Well, you will need to.”

The dwarf faltered in his steps, nearly tripping over his heavy boots. “I must talk with him?” He squeaked out. While the thought did cross his mind in his many musings and daydreams before all this, Kíli did find it worrying that he would have to talk to the cold, aloof King of Mirkwood.

“While dwarves have their own traditions, elves do as well.” Legolas informed him. “So you must officially ask him for his approval.”

“And what if he doesn’t agree?” The dwarf prince made a face at the very thought. He just confessed his feelings for the elven prince and he finally accepted his courtship – _now_ he had to go though his father?

Legolas smirked, “Oh, he _will_ agree.”

“How can you be so sure?” Kíli asked. Legolas just gave a small shrug of his should as they walked down the halls of Erebor. They walked into the throne room together and Kíli could already see his uncle raising a brow. The dark haired prince cleared his throat once they approached and he cautiously looked up to Legolas before focusing his attention on Thorin. He gave his announcement, “Uncle, _erm_ , Thorin – Prince Legolas has accepted my courtship.”

Thorin nodded slowly, “I am happy for you, sister-son. Your mother will be happy, as well.” At Thorin’s comment, Kíli paled. He completely forgot about his mother. He briefly wondered if she would skin him or perhaps she would love the elven prince? Kíli groaned softly as Thorin gave him a look, making him wince. “You have told her about your feelings, have you not?”

Kíli forced a laugh out, “Well, not entirely...” He scratched his cheek. The dwarf looked up to the elf. “I guess our next stop is my mother.” Kíli turned and was about to take his leave until he remembered what he needed to tell Thorin. “Uncle, as per elven customs, I must travel to Mirkwood and ask the King for Prince Legolas’ hand.”

At that, Thorin chuckled. “Aye, that will certainly go well.”

“It will,” Legolas replied coolly. Thorin arched his brow which Legolas returned with narrowed eyes. Thorin shrugged and Legolas turned on his heels and gently pulled Kíli's sleeve. The two left the throne room and were once again cruising the halls in searching of Kíli's mother.

Kíli looked to Legolas, “You and my uncle are... odd.” He said slowly, not exactly wanting to offend Legolas in some way. However, their silent exchange was weird and reminded him of Fíli and himself. Whenever they needed to, they could always communicate silently just with looks and glances. They did not even have to use Iglishmêk.

Legolas met his gaze and smiled. “Odd? I guess...” He hummed in thought. “Are you worried?” The fair-haired prince asked, staring curiously down at Kíli.

Kíli scoffed as he tore his brown eyes away from Legolas. “Me? Worried? Pfft – _no_.” He laughed as he waved his hand. Kíli faltered, coming to a stop. “Should I be?” He wondered, eyeing Legolas.

Legolas chuckled, “No. You should not be.”

“Okay,” Kíli laughed.

♥ ♥ ♥

A week has passed since the official announcement of their courtship in Erebor.

Legolas has yet to return home and Kíli is even more reluctant to let him leave. However, mail has arrived from Thranduil and the King of Mirkwood was getting tired and annoyed of his son being away. Legolas told Kíli it was fine. Kíli would not admit that it scared him. After all, Thranduil and his icy-glare was scary – just a little, though. It was something Kíli would never tell Legolas, although he was sure Legolas already knew of his thoughts about his father.

Dealing with all the stares, murmurs, and rumors amongst the dwarven people in Erebor was one thing but having to deal with whatever wrath King Thranduil would unleash on him... Kíli feared for his future. But Kíli knew that as long as Legolas was there with him, everything would be okay.

Currently, the two were back in Kíli’s room.

While Legolas was not yet staying in the dwarven prince’s room, he would often visit him there once Kíli was finished with his princely duties, then retire to his own room. It was part of tradition, dwarven or elven, Kíli was unsure but did not mind. At least, for now.

Legolas had returned from bathing and was currently brushing his hair. Kíli watched quietly. He watched the pretty elven comb glide through Legolas’ hair. It did not take the elven prince long to comb through his hair since they was not even any tangles – something Kíli may or may not be jealous of – and when he put the comb down, Kíli interrupted suddenly. “Wait,”

Legolas turned his crystal blue eyes to him and for a moment Kíli was breathless. He cleared his throat and looked away. “I– I was wondering if maybe I could braid your hair? I could use the beads I made. If you want, I– _Uhm_... Yeah.”

The elven prince laughed softly at Kíli’s stuttering. He brushed his hair over his shoulder and turned around. “It’s fine. Do what you will.”

‘ _I wish I could..._ ’ Kíli thought as he stared at Legolas’ long silvery-blond hair in front of him. He grinned, glad that his elf was turned around so he could not see his happiness, and reached forward to gently card his fingers through his hair. Admittedly, this was something Kíli has dreamed about for a while.

He always had a fascination with elves. But their hair was something he truly found interesting since it always looked nice and well-kept. So unlike his own hair. Kíli’s hair would tangle easily and form knots that his brother or mother would always have to tackle after he left it for too long. The dwarf prince supposed braids would help but he would have to earn them. “Oh yeah!” Kíli remembered.

“You can braid my hair, too. They would be like courting-braids, I guess.” Kíli chuckled. “Then when we’re finally married we can have more braids!”

“Dwarves are interesting.” Legolas commented. He spied a look over his shoulder at Kíli, a sly smile on his face. “And what do you mean _finally married_?”

Kíli faltered, his fingers holding the fishtail braid he was currently working on. “Uhh... I mean, _you–_ I... Ehm... It’s just I’ve been waiting for a while to tell you about my feelings and finally its come to this and now all I can think about is when we can get married. You know, if you wish... to continue with this.” The words all came rushing out, Kíli was unable to stop himself. Or filter himself, for that matter.

“I have no qualms about this courtship so far.” Legolas replied as he motioned for Kíli to continue his braiding. Kíli did so and when they settled into a comfortable silence, he started humming quietly as he finished the main braid he was working on. He used a normal tie to secure it and stood up and went around to the front of Legolas.

Kíli stared at the elven prince for a few moments before plopping down in front of him. Legolas looked amused, making Kíli’s heart speed up. He wet his lips and touched the elf’s chin to gently turn it to the side. He began to work on the side braids that Legolas usually wore. He used a bit more hair but managed to make it look nice in the end. It looked especially nice when he used one of his diamond courting beads to secure it. Kíli turned the elf’s head the other way and repeated the process and when he finished with Legolas’ hair, he stood back and surveyed his work.

“I think I did a good job.” Kíli beamed. Legolas looked nice with his hair before but _now_ – now he looked even better. Especially with Kíli’s beads in his hair.

Kíli looked so proud and happy that Legolas found it endearing.

Legolas stood up from the bed and studied the dwarf in front of him. “I suppose I should bring you back something from Mirkwood to use in your braids, hmm?” He asked softly, holding a few strands of Kíli’s hair in his fingers. “Maybe after you washed your hair?”

Kíli looked away, “Sorry. I like bathing, I do. My hair just gets... gross?” He winced.

“I’m just teasing,” Legolas smirked. When Kíli looked back to him, Legolas leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on the corner of Kíli’s mouth. When he pulled away, Kíli’s face was flushed and he looked surprised. Legolas arched an eyebrow and parted his lips to say something but nothing came out as Kíli tugged him forward into his lips.

The first initial clash of their mouths was a bit painful but the actual kiss was wonderful. At least, to Kíli it was. He found that Legolas’ lips were as smooth and soft as he imagined and when Kíli licked at his bottom lip and the prince before him parted his lips, Kíli found himself moaning softly. When Legolas bit at his lip softly Kíli had to pull away hastily.

“Maybe we should stop,” The dwarf said breathlessly, his hands on his hips.

Legolas laughed, “Okay,” He agreed. He could hear the pounding of Kíli’s heart in his chest and Legolas thought it was cute how easily flushed and embarrassed he got. He would spare Kíli the embarrassment of telling him that, though. So instead, Legolas just settled for grabbing Kíli’s hand and giving it a tug to the door.

“I do believe your mother wanted to go to Dale today.”

“Oh, right.” Kíli huffed out. He squeezed Legolas’ hand as he followed the elf from his room. “Can’t wait.” He said sarcastically. While he was glad his mother approved of their relationship and squealed every time she saw them, he wished that she would stop causing such a scene.

“I like your mother,” Legolas said suddenly. “I don’t remember much of my mother but I think they would have got along.”

Kíli stared up at Legolas. His heart twinged painfully but he gave his hand another gentle squeeze. “I’m sure mother would be over the moon if she heard you say that.” He offered. Kíli paused and tilted his head, “Now I just need to figure out the right thing to send your father over the moon about our relationship... Any ideas?”

“I got a few.” Legolas told him.

Kíli smiled, “Good. Because I really do not want to die by your fathers hands. But if it came to that, I would be happy to die for you.” The brown eyed dwarf sighed happily.

“No one will be dying, Kíli. Do not worry.” Legolas said softly. The elven prince smiled at the happy look on Kíli’s face. “Although I do appreciate the sentiment.”

The two continued on down the hallway, taking comfort and enjoying the silence between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not make a part 3 with Kíli confronting Thranduil.


	5. Light - Dwalin/Legolas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas was as graceful as any elf. But when he suddenly ends up falling into the barrel of a certain angry-looking, tattooed dwarf – he blames it entirely on the light of the sun. Maybe on the dwarf, as well.

Legolas was angry.

His father was even angrier.

That made him even more pissed off. He was not exactly angry about the dwarves figuring out a way to escape their prisons but more-so over the fact that they did so while one of _their_ guards was drinking on the job. Now Legolas and his kin had to deal with a group of orcs attacking the prisoners they were trying to get back. Everything was going horribly wrong and his anger was sky-rocketing – despite his calm facade.

Legolas loosed an arrow, straight through an orc’s eye and into his head. The body crumpled to the ground and the elven archer used its momentum to slide down the slope. He jumped from the body and onto an unsuspecting orc, taking it to the ground and using his bow to snap its neck. Legolas stood and pulled his knife out in one fluid motion, driving it deep into another orcs neck before turning swiftly on his heel and throwing that same knife into the face of one charging at him. The elven prince knelt down and took his knife back, sheathing it and grabbing an arrow in a blink of an eye before releasing it into an orc in the distance, one that was trying (and failing) to jump onto one of the dwarves barrels.

Legolas smirked because it gave him an idea.

With his lightness and balance, it would be easy to do, not to mention Legolas would have the field advantage – so long as the dwarves played along and did not try to attack him. There was a small chance it would fail but the reward was greater than the risk so Legolas decided in a split second to just go for it. He jumped down from his perch on a rock and jumped off an orc and onto the head of a couple of dwarves.

Legolas easily regained his balance despite the dwarf rocking in a barrel in the rushing river and managed to fire off two arrows, killing a pair of orcs with one and another that was trying to jump onto one of the dwarf’s. Legolas hopped from the ginger haired dwarf and onto the heads of the next two – one with grey hair with an intricately-braided hairstyle and the other a tattooed, strong-looking dwarf.

He killed a few more orcs and when he looked down stream, Legolas saw a rock in the middle so he pushed his weight off of the grey-haired dwarf and swiveled around on the tattooed dwarf’s head, loosing another arrow. When Legolas spun around, about to distribute his weight among the two dwarves, he turned into the direct sun light which momentarily blinded him. Whilst being blinded for a mere few seconds, the barrel hit a rock on the river-bed and caused Legolas’ foot to slip.

Legolas would have fell in the river if it had not been for the tattooed dwarf suddenly grabbing his legging and tugging harshly. He gasped as he suddenly fell into the barrel, landing straight on the lap of the tattooed dwarf. Once Legolas’ vision returned to normal and he was not seeing a bright light every time he blinked, the elven prince stared incredulously at their escaped prisoner.

His icy-blue eyes were locked onto the dwarven warriors steel-blue eyes. They were so close; close enough that their chests were pressed together and their breathes intermingled. Legolas jolted from the suddenly realization of their positions and reeled back. It made the barrel shift in the water and they nearly capsized if not for the dwarf pulling him back.

Legolas clamped his mouth shut and narrowed his eyes at the dwarf, glaring. He pressed his hands against the sides of the barrel, feeling too enclosed in the limited space. The elven prince realized he lost his bow in the chaos and cursed under his breath. He went back to eyeing the dwarf, his fingers twitching and ready to grab his blades if needed – although battle in a barrel that stunk of wine while pressed against his enemy seemed more along the lines of impossible.

“I thought elves were light on their feet,” The dwarf sneered up at him.

Legolas glowered as he stared down the dwarf. “We are. I just got blinded by the light from the sun.” He said in his defence, not caring that it sounded petty because it was true. “Also, this is partly your fault, too.”

The dwarf laughed gruffly, “My fault?” He echoed.

The elven prince nodded mutely. He chose to ignore the dwarf’s scrutiny and shifted awkwardly on his lap, looking down to study how they got into such a predicament. The dwarf’s back was pressed against the barrel while his legs were half crossed and Legolas was seated on his lap. He could feel the water at the bottom of the barrel soaking his leggings where his knees braced his weight. The elf tried to peer behind him but again the barrel shifted and they both tensed. Legolas reluctantly leaned forward into the dwarf, refusing to acknowledge the flush he could feel staining his cheeks.

“I need to get out of here.” Legolas muttered.

“No shit,” The dwarf grunted. He winced and moved carefully, freeing his arm from being squished between the barrel and his and the elf’s leg. He sighed in relief as the blood began flowing once more but made a face at the pin-pricks that followed. He looked down and realized that he had no where else to put his free hand so he just ended up awkwardly resting it against the elf’s hip.

Legolas glared down at the dwarf and threatened him in a heated whisper, “Remove your hand, dwarf – or I shall remove it for you.”

“And put it where?” The dwarf hissed back, his dark blue eyes boring into the elf. “Should I wrap it around your neck? Or do you prefer me resting it on your thigh?” Legolas tensed and huffed as he turned his head away from the dwarf.

“I do not even know your name yet,” He said under his breath.

The dwarf smirked when he caught the joke, “Dwalin.” He replied before putting his hand back to where it was on the elf’s hip.

Legolas just rolled his eyes but did not make a fuss about it. Instead, he carefully pushed himself up to peer out of the barrel. The orcs were still chasing and attacking the dwarves, being as unrelenting as the elves who were still hot on their heels. Although there were fewer elves chasing them down and Legolas wondered if it was because they thought he disappeared or if they got injured or killed in the midst of the chase and battle. Either way, he cursed again because he needed to get out of the stupid barrel and back in the fight. They needed to kill the orcs and recapture their prisoners – or else his father would have a fit.

The elf sunk back down with a sigh, wincing when water splashed into the barrel, spraying him and Dwalin. “As far as I see it,” Dwalin spoke up, making Legolas turn his attention to him, “You either jump from the barrel and flop around the river like a fish or you just hold on for the ride until the current isn’t so bad and we hit solid land.”

Legolas did not like either of those choices.

He briefly thought about trying to escape the barrel but like Dwalin said, he did not want to end up in the river. The current would sweep him under and he would smash into rocks and that did not sound like a good time. “I guess I shall wait this out.” Legolas huffed out, his fingers gripping the edge of the barrel.

Legolas closed his eyes and tilted his head, listening to the sounds of battle. He could hear the snap of an arrow being loosed and the cries of orcs and his kin alike. He could hear the dwarves communicating, he could hear weapons flying overhead, being passed to the next dwarf. The elf had to admit, the way they fought in a group was very interesting – though he would never tell a dwarf that, nor his father. Legolas could also hear the sounds of nature around them, birds chirping and wings flapping, the sound of rushing water around them, the quick-beating of the dwarf’s heart...

The elf opened his eyes and peered down at Dwalin.

He arched his brow and was about to question why his heart rate was up when suddenly the barrel hit a rock and bounced them to the side. Legolas fell forward into Dwalin and his hands flew from the sides of the barrel to the dwarven warriors shoulders to catch himself. Water splashed into the barrel, seeping into their clothing. It seemed river was not yet done with the two, as the barrel then flew down a small waterfall, turning in the water and nearly capsizing a few times.

Amazingly, the water that got in the barrel did not sink them and despite being tossed around a few times, they stayed upright. Legolas breathed out slowly, his muscles relaxing from the sudden disturbance. He could feel Dwalin’s fingers gripping his hips tightly and it made him flush once more. Legolas made to peel himself from the dwarf but as he did so, he felt a sudden tug on his left braid.

“Watch it,” Dwalin uttered.

Legolas looked down to see what was wrong and immediately noticed that the tie holding his braid together was tangled in a clasp on Dwalin’s tunic. He furrowed his brow and leaned back ever so slightly, not wanting to veer the barrel. The fair-haired elf moved his hands from the dwarf’s strong shoulders and tried to untangle his hair from the clasp. The only thing Legolas succeeded in was tangling it even more so he heaved a sigh of frustration. He settled for glaring at his tangled braid and Dwalin’s clasp.

Dwalin snorted. “I don’t think that’s gonna help any, lad.” His comment made Legolas roll his eyes. “Can’t you just cut your hair or something?”

Legolas scoffed. “I am not going to cut my hair over something so trivial.”

“Fine. Stay stuck to me.” Dwalin shrugged, as if any of it was his problem.

Legolas glared down at the dwarf. He bit his lip and once again tried to untangle the mess the barrel created. In his previous struggles, Legolas’ hair got wrapped around the clasp even more and it made his annoyance soar. Done fiddling with the mess, Legolas carefully reaches back and pulls one of his dual blades free.

Dwalin tensed, his grip tightening on the elf atop him. “What are you–”

“Calm down, dwarf,” Legolas hissed. He grabbed the clasp on Dwalin’s tunic and hooked his blade under it, cutting it free from the fabric. The elf gently put his blade down on his leg and leaned back in Dwalin’s lap as he managed to unravel the ends of his hair free from the end of the clasp.

“Oh, _sure_ ,” Dwalin uttered, “You won’t cut your precious hair but you’ll cut my shirt.”

Legolas tossed the clasp out of the barrel and turned his attention to Dwalin. He looked at the part of his tunic which was now open, revealing his muscled chest dusted with hair. Legolas looked away and picked up his blade before he could forget about it and end up injuring one of them. He put back in its sheath and rearranged himself on the dwarven warriors lap.

The elf froze when he felt something hard under his rear.

Legolas started, “Are you–”

“Shut it.” Dwalin rasped.

The tattooed dwarf had the decency to look embarrassed – although that did nothing to soothe Legolas’ qualms. “It’s the knife...” Dwalin said quietly as he chose to glare at an arrowhead lodged into the side of the barrel.

Legolas narrowed his eyes in confusion. “The knife?” He repeated, thinking back to when he pulled his blade free to fix his problem. He mused over it for a few moments then realization dawned on him. “You enjoy that sort of thing?”

“I said to shut it.” Dwalin huffed.

Dwalin could still feel the elf’s fixated gaze on him so he sighed heavily. His deeper blue orbs met the elfling’s icy-blue eyes. “There is nothing wrong with a bit of knife-play, okay?”

“Knife-play...” Legolas repeated the foreign words. He found it odd and still did not fully understand it but decided against questioning the dwarf because he could still feel his hardness pressing against him.

Legolas looked away and gripped the edges of the barrel once more. He leaned up and looked around since he noticed that things have quieted down since the last drop in the river. The elven prince saw no signs of the orcs and no sign of his brethren – which meant that the dwarves managed to successfully escape. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, ‘ _This makes things more hard for me. Wait... Don’t think about hard things._ ’

Legolas shook his head and scanned the area. They were currently on the boarders of Mirkwood and nearly to where the bargemen would collect the barrels. He cursed softly and when he turned his light blue eyes to the right, he spotted the dwarven-welp who had been staring at Tauriel during their imprisonment. Their eyes made contact and Legolas immediately sunk back in the barrel, ignoring the hitch of breath from Dwalin.

“ _Uhm_ –” A voice chimed out.

Dwalin lifted his head but seeing as he was stuck under the elf, he could not look to see what was going on. He shifted awkwardly and wondered how to calm himself down. He would rather not get caught with a hard-on, from riding in a barrel with an elf. The elven prince, no less.

“Why is the elf prince in Dwalin’s barrel?”

Dwalin cursed Kíli under his breath. He swore to whack that kid over his head, consequences be damned. He could hear the collective voices of the company as his mind wandered on how to explain what happened. The elf shifting around on his lap was not helping, either.

Legolas felt uncomfortable. Well, more uncomfortable for suddenly being made aware of. He moved restlessly, just wanting to get out of the damned barrel already. He did not care about dragging the prisoners back anymore. Legolas stopped when Dwalin gripped his waist, glaring up at him. “What?” Legolas snapped quietly.

“Just stop moving around already,” Dwalin muttered, equally as embarrassed as Legolas. “When we finally get out of this accursed barrel, you best be off, elfling. I don’t think you can handle thirteen dwarves and a hobbit all on your own. Not to mention I don’t think anyone will appreciate an elf in the group.”

“Fine by me, dwarf.” Legolas asserted.

“Fine.”

“ _Fine_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh ♥
> 
> I'm beginning to ship this pair more and more! lol ☺
> 
> Also my friend and I have this head-cannon that most in Durin's Line enjoy being 'thrown around' and also knife-play lmao.
> 
> P.S. If you want to read more Dwalin/Legolas, I have another one-shot called **The Perfect Chance**!


	6. Dark - Kíli/Fíli

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli muses over his brother's antics as the sun rises on another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short thing, sorry. uwu
> 
> Can be seen as them being together or just super close and brotherly ♥
> 
> Yes, I am going to hell. Join me. ☻
> 
> _tho i have to warn you there are no dinosaurs_

Fíli woke to the faintest light of dawn pooling in through the small carved out window of his room. It shined in his eyes and made him groan softly, urging him to turn around and go back to sleep. However, he knew he should be getting up soon because of the duties that required him. Thorin was always adamant on being on time, especially since he was so eager to rebuild what was destroyed of Erebor. Not to mention, they had to help those in Dale, as well.

The fair-haired dwarf prince closed his eyes and rolled onto his side. He turned and bumped into something hard, something that was definitely not his blankets or pillows. Fíli opened his eyes and was met with dark brown tousled locks in his face. He craned his head back to get a better look at the intruder but was not all that surprised to see Kíli next to him.

His brother was snoring softly, his arm draped over his eyes to block out the early morning light shining in. Fíli sighed softly and had an internal debate over waking Kíli up or not. Before he could come to a decision, the dark haired prince moved his free arm to pull Fíli closer to him.

Fíli ended up with his head resting on his brother’s shoulder and his hand resting atop his chest. Kíli somehow managed to tangle their legs together, making Fíli’s job of getting out of bed all the more difficult. After a brief struggle, the blond haired prince gave up and settled for cuddling Kíli since that was all the dark haired dwarf seemed to want.

Although, one thing was still unclear. Fíli did not know when exactly his brother came into his room. After all, Kíli had his own room directly across from his. So apparently it happened at some point during the night.

Fíli repeatedly chided Kíli over sleeping in his own room. In the end, though, Kíli always won him over because Fíli knew of the nightmares the younger prince suffered from. Nightmares from the battle that took place a little over four months ago. Fíli himself was still recovering from his injuries but he knew Kíli took it worse. So, naturally like the older brother he was, he comforted Kíli whenever he needed it – which seemed like every night, counting the numerous times he crept into his room.

So Fíli supposed that he would stay there a little longer.

He would stay and let his brother get his much needed rest. Fíli could always make Kíli help him with his duties later on, anyway. The blond haired prince smiled and closed his eyes, content with listening to the soft rhythm of Kíli’s heartbeat and feel the rise and fall of his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe, everyone!


	7. Happiness - Kíli/Legolas [Bonus]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli hasn't been the same since Legolas left, so under the advice of his brother, he travels to Mirkwood to see Legolas and finally talk to Thranduil about their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of chapter's 3&4!
> 
> Thank you Dear Guest who commented on chapter 4! ♥
> 
> Your kind words really made my day and inspired me to write this! I'm just really sorry it took so long! OTL
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys! uwu

Kíli sat with his head on the table, occasionally lifting it just high enough so he could let it fall back onto the table with a soft thunk. He repeated the process, his eyes closed and his lips in a pout. Somewhere behind him, the dark haired prince could hear a sigh but that did nothing to deter his actions; the hand on his shoulder, pulling him upright in his chair, did though.

The brown eyed dwarf turned his sulky glare to his older brother, lips pulled downward in a frown. “What, Fí?” Kíli questioned, “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Fíli sighed again. “Kíli, you cannot sulk forever. Besides, what would Legolas think?”

At the mention of his elf’s name, Kíli faltered. The brown haired dwarf whined out, “I don’t know! It’s not like he’s _here_ to see me sulk or anything...” Kíli stated before he returned to his earlier position in hitting his head against the table.

Again, Fíli pulled him back up and this time it was Kíli who sighed. The fair-haired heir gave Kíli a look which the younger returned with a huff. “Kíli, it has literally only been two weeks since he has returned to Mirkwood. Before that he has been here two weeks, a week and a half longer than what his father expected. You know how restless and annoyed King Thranduil has gotten – so Legolas had no choice but to return.”

“I know...” Kíli mumbled.

Fíli studied his brother’s face. He had dark circles under his eyes and he was constantly sighing. Kíli was always dragging his feet and all together looked listless. He even stopped practicing his archery. It pained him to see his brother so down all the time. So he knew that something needed to be done. Fíli wanted Kíli to cheer up and there was only one way for that to happen. They needed Legolas back.

However, there was only one thing that stood in the way of Legolas living in Erebor – and that thing was King Thranduil.

“Kíli, listen to me,” Fíli patted his younger brother’s shoulder to catch his attention. When Kíli turned his dark brown eyes to Fíli, he continued, “I think it’s time you go to Mirkwood and talk to King Thranduil with Legolas.”

Kíli’s eyes brightened at the mention of going to see Legolas but then dulled at the thought of having to talk to Thranduil. “I am not sure if that is a good idea or a bad one, brother.” Still, he was unable to help the grin that formed on his face.

Fíli grinned in return as happiness flooded over him. He was glad to see his brother smiling again. “Do not worry so much about it, Kíli. Did Legolas not say that his father would have no qualms accepting your relationship?”

Kíli looked away because he remembered that Legolas had said something about that. “I guess. But I still don’t know what he meant.”

“Well, when he sees how much you care for Legolas and want to be with him, I am sure he will accept it.” The blond haired dwarf clapped his brother on the back. He teased, “Maybe he will let Legolas live here with us since you seem to become incapable of anything when he is away.”

Kíli flushed at the mention of how he has been acting as of late. “I know, I know...” He huffed. The dark haired dwarf got up and collected himself. He turned to his brother, “Thanks, Fí! I’m gonna go tell Uncle and pack my things for tomorrow.”

“You do that, Kíli.” Fíli clapped his brother on the back before he took his leave. The blond haired dwarf watched his brother go before heaving a sigh. “Hopefully Thorin will agree to this...” Fíli turned down the hallway opposite of his brother and went to continue his duties around the Mountain.

♥ ♥ ♥

Once Kíli had finished packing the essentials, he was stalking down the hall, searching for Thorin. At first, the brown eyed dwarf checked the throne room but his uncle was no where to be seen so now he was stuck looking for him. Kíli spotted Balin a few moments later but when he asked where Thorin was, the old and wise dwarf was not able to give him an answer. Eventually Kíli did find Fíli, though.

Kíli ran up to his brother, asking, “Fí! Do you know where uncle went?”

“I think he is in Dale on business.” Fíli responded. “He told me to look after things here. Is something wrong? Or did you just want to talk to him about... your travel ideas?”

“What travel ideas?” Asked Thorin, walking up behind the two.

Both brothers turned, surprised to see their uncle and king suddenly appear. Kíli looked to Fíli, forcing a laugh out. “Well, I kind of had this idea...”

“Which is?” Thorin asked, his eyes narrowed at the taller brother. The King shed his outer coat, brushing the snow from it as he made his way to his room. The two followed after him, Kíli at the end because he was wondering how exactly to word his plan to Thorin.

“I guess... I want to travel to Mirkwood and see Legolas? I mean, I’ll go on business, too... But I mostly just want to see him and finally talk to his father.” Kíli rushed out. Thorin stilled, causing Fíli to halt and make Kíli crash into him from behind. “Oops, sorry, brother.”

Fíli gave him a look but turned his attention back to Thorin, as the older dwarf had fallen silent. For a moment, he feared the worst but instead of Thorin disapproving of the matter, he turned and smiled. Fíli and Kíli shared a look. “I think that is a good idea, Kíli.”

“Really?” Kíli beamed happily at their uncle.

Fíli looked more surprised as he whispered, “ _Really?_ ”

Thorin nodded in confirmation. “Yes, you should depart as soon as possible. Good luck with your- _endeavours_...” With that, The King under the Mountain turned on his heel and continued on his way, leaving his two sister-sons alone.

Kíli looked to his older brother, a grin on his face. “See? Wasn’t my idea great?”

“Yes, only it was more my idea than yours.” Fíli teased. “So will you be leaving tomorrow morning?” The golden haired Durin asked. He hoped his brother would say yes because he did not want him running the woods at night just to get to Legolas. He wanted him to be careful.

Kíli parted his lips to say something but when he saw the pointed look on his brother’s face, he twitched. “... Yes. Tomorrow, Fí! Bright and early.” The brown haired dwarf bid his brother goodbye and went on his way. Kíli wanted to make sure he had everything he needed. He came to a halt and realized that he should probably send a raven to let the elves know of his arrival. The brunette did not want to just suddenly and randomly show up, after all.

Once he wrote the note, he rolled up the little scroll and sent it off with a raven. Kíli went back to his room and he double checked his travel bag. He put it by the door and soon enough,Kíli was left to sit alone in his room with his thoughts. The dark haired prince wondered exactly what he would say to Legolas’ father. The elven king was rather stoic and unapproachable, in a sense. Kíli really hoped that Legolas was right; that his father would not disapprove or start anything because of their relationship.

The brunette sighed and lay back on his bed, unable to shake the worries and anxieties that clouded his mind.

♥ ♥ ♥

Kíli was up at the crack of dawn the next day.

He was eager to set out, wanting to arrive in Mirkwood sooner rather than later. If everything went accordingly than Kíli would make it just before dusk. With excellent timing – he would be there in time for supper. The dwarven prince paused and thought about it. If he did make it by supper, would that give him an opportunity to talk to Thranduil? Or did Legolas want to wait until the next day... Kíli groaned and rubbed his tired eyes. He had managed a few hours of sleep last night, both excited and anxious about his mission.

Kíli bid his farewells to his brother and mother, telling them to say goodbye to Thorin for him since the King Under the Mountain was busy attending to business. If everything followed the set plan in his mind then he should be back in Erebor by the end of the week. Hopefully with Legolas at his side.

The young prince flushed, his heart beat quickening as he thought about his future – about _their_ future. Kíli buried his face in his hands as he tried to calm his beating heart and festering, uncontrollable emotions. His pony whinnied and Kíli barely managed to stop her from marching into a tree. He coughed and cleared his throat as he looked around, just to be sure that no one saw his near-blunder.

♥ ♥ ♥

After a whole sixteen hours of travel, Kíli finally arrived in Mirkwood. The sun was gone and the only light he had to guide him was from his lantern and the moonlight streaming in through the leaves and branches. When he finally arrived at the doors, a guard too his pony while another escorted him inside. Kíli trudged inside and his fatigue was nearly forgotten when his dark brown eyes landed on Legolas.

“Legolas,” Kíli greeted the elven prince, a grin on his face.

The silvery-white haired elf returned his smile and it made Kíli’s heart pound. Even though he has not seen the elf for nearly two weeks, it felt like forever. At least now that he is in his presence, it was like seeing him for the first time. His blood rushed to his head and he felt his cheeks grow hot. Kíli cleared his throat and tried to play it off – but he was just so happy to see Legolas.

The dwarven prince was just about to tell Legolas that but the elf leaned down and placed a soft kiss to his lips. Kíli’s brain faltered and he completely forgot what he was about to say, too distracted by the soft pair of lips against his. When Legolas pulled away, Kíli was left speechless. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, _anything –_ but the only thing to come out of his mouth was an incoherent string of noises.

Legolas gave him an amused smile and Kíli flushed again, this time embarrassed by his own stupidity. He coughed and followed after his elf prince. “I-... _Erm_ , sorry. I think I just wanted to say I missed you, but all that came out was... _That._ ” Kíli shook his head.

“It is fine, Kíli.” Legolas chuckled.

The elven prince led them down a series of walkways until they reached a hall which lead to a bunch of doors. “It is quite late so this will be your accommodations for your stay,” Legolas opened the door and showed Kíli his room.

“It’s nice,” Kíli commented as he took off his bag, letting it plop onto the ground. “Much better than the dungeons.” He laughed at Legolas’ little eye-roll. “So...” Kíli paused as he thought about what would go down the next day. “Will I be talking to your father tomorrow morning?” He asked.

Legolas gave a nod, “May as well. But do not worry too much about it, okay? It will be fine.” The elf said, his words calming Kíli’s anxieties a little bit. “Get some rest,” said Legolas. He kissed Kíli once more before bidding him goodnight.

Kíli watched the door shut and he turned and surveyed the room once more before he decided to do just as Legolas said. He changed out of his travelling clothes into his sleepwear and lay in the soft bed. Kíli fell asleep almost instantly, only now realizing how tired he was from travelling all day. The comfort of the bed and the knowledge of having Legolas close by put him at ease, allowing him to drift off into a peaceful slumber.

♥ ♥ ♥

Kíli woke up feeling oddly refreshed.

Lately Kíli had been waking up still tired and occasionally cranky – but not today. Today he felt well-rested and raring to go. Perhaps it was because of the elven bed? Or maybe it was because he knew Legolas was just around the corner. Kíli decided it was the latter, since just thinking about the fact made him happier. With Legolas around, happiness would last a life time.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

Kíli got up and swung the door open, a grin on his face. His grin faltered and a look of horror crossed his face when he saw that it was not Legolas who stood in front of him – it was Thranduil. Kíli panicked. He shut the door hastily, suddenly not prepared for what was about to happen.

After a few moments, the dwarven prince cringed because not only did he forget to properly greet Legolas’ father, he _slammed the door_ in his face. ‘ _This day is starting off so well..._ ’ Kíli cursed himself softly. He quickly changed out of his sleepwear and into something more befitting of a dwarven prince ambassador – and opened the door.

He came face to torso with the elven King. Kíli craned his neck to peer up at Thranduil. “G- Good morning, sir- _erm_ , my King...”

Thranduil raised an eyebrow at him, his pale blue orbs fixated on the dwarf before him. After a few moments of scrutiny, Thranduil turned around and Kíli slowly released the breath he was holding in. The dwarven prince followed after the great elven King, his fingers pulling idly at the fabric of his tunic.

Before Kíli could get a chance to think of anything else to say, Thranduil spoke. “So you are the one who is interested in my son.”

Kíli faltered. He stared at Thranduil’s back but when he processed the words, he caught up to the taller male. “Yes, King Thranduil,” said Kíli.

Thranduil stopped and Kíli came to a halt as well, lest he walk right into him. He already slammed a door in his face, he did not want to add bumping into him on his list. The silvery-blond turned on his heel and stared down at Kíli, his expression unreadable. “Was it not you who was interested in my previous Captain of the Guard? Tauriel?”

Kíli looked away, “Yes, King Thranduil.” He whispered. Kíli turned his gaze back to the elven King. “But the love I felt for her... I’ve learned it is different – different from the love I feel for your, _ah_ , I mean, Prince Legolas.” The dark haired dwarf lowered his head, hiding the growing smile.

The brunette looked back up at Thranduil and noticed the faint smirk on his face before the elf turned around and continued leading them down the walkway. “Admittedly,” Thranduil spoke up once again, “You are not the one I imagined chasing after my son.”

Kíli felt his cheeks flush. He scratched his cheek, unsure of what to say. “I just... Well, you may not approve but I honestly do love him and wish to spend the rest of my days with him.”

Thranduil hummed in response. “Under normal circumstances I would never allow such a thing to happen – especially since he is immortal while you are _not_.” Kíli cringed at that, “But things are different now and I wish not to disrupt the peace between our two races. Legolas is strong, like me. I know he would be able to get through even the worst of times. There is also the point where you are simply a prince and not the crown prince – meaning you are not in any need to father children.”

Kíli stared at Thranduil, “You’ve though long and hard about this, haven’t you?”

“For nearly two weeks, yes.” The elven King replied.

“Oh,” Kíli sputtered. “Uhh, I see. I wasn’t aware Legolas would-... _Well_ , never mind.” The brown eyed dwarf shook his head. “So, did all that mean you approve, or...?”

“It means he is all right with this arrangement.” Both Kíli and Thranduil turned to see Legolas waiting by the door to the dining hall. He had a faint, cheeky smile on his face – which Kíli made a mental note to punish him for later. Legolas walked to the table, “Shall we eat?” He asked.

Thranduil took his seat without another word and Kíli laughed awkwardly as he took his seat across from Legolas. The dwarven prince glanced from Legolas to Thranduil, “I guess it’s all settled, then? Legolas can come live in Erebor with me?”

Thranduil inhaled the piece of fruit in his mouth, causing him to choke and cough until it came flying out of his mouth. Legolas started laughing and Kíli had the sense to look horrified.


	8. Sadness - Dwalin/Fíli

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili was alive. 
> 
> He managed to live through the Battle of Five Armies, while his uncle and beloved brother did not. 
> 
> Everyday he resented himself for it. He should have been the one to die, not Thorin and Kili. Yet the world was cruel like that.

Fíli woke to the morning light pooling in from the small window in his room.

The curtains blew from the gentle breeze outside, leaving his room to smell like the flowers blooming outside the mountain. It reminded the golden haired dwarf that it was indeed the first official day of spring. The snow melted away under the warm sun over the last month, taking the reminder of the battle with it.

The young king of Erebor took a moment to push himself up slowly, wincing from the dull ache in his back. His wound from Azog was mostly healed after months from the battle but he still had phantom pains. Fíli sat on the bed and stared at the sunlight streaking through the flowing curtains, watching the dust particles dance in the air.

It made him remember the days of travelling with the company; of the rare occasions when they rested in a quiet forest. Fíli would wake to the morning light peeping down from the leaves and branches of the trees they slept under, shining rays of light around the company. It was serene and peaceful, the only sounds coming from the chirping birds and the quiet snores of the dwarves.

Fíli shook his head as he pulled himself from his reminiscing.

The blue eyed dwarf sighed as he tried to think of anything but the company – the company in which Thorin was the leader of and his brother was apart of. Fíli’s lip quivered because as hard as he tried to stop thinking of them, he could not bring himself too. Thorin was a great leader and he would have been a great king. Kíli... His dear brother was too young to die. He had not yet seen much of the world, he did not get to experience the wonders and trials life would bring. Because he was dead. They were both dead. Gone. And Fíli would never see them again...

Fíli felt the hot tears streaming down his face. His vision was clouded by the tears as he squeezed his blanket in his hands, tugging and pulling, wringing the fabric as his emotions got the better of him. A faint sob escaped his lips so he covered his mouth with the back of his hand, stifling the soft cries that came from him. His face burned with the pain in his heart and he was not sure how many minutes passed before he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

The golden haired King jolted and his hand flew up, only to be caught. Fíli furiously wiped his tears away as he looked up to see the tattooed dwarf standing above him. "Dwalin..." Fíli whispered.

The look on the warriors face faltered and it made Fíli turn away. "I am sorry I did not hear you come in. Is it time to get up now?" He asked.

"Not yet..." Dwalin muttered. He let Fíli's hand go, watching the young King's arm fall back to his side, his fingers curling in the blanket once more. "I just wanted to see how you were doing, lad- _I_ , My King." Dwalin winced at the look Fíli gave him.

“Don’t call me that, Dwalin... I am no King.” Fíli muttered.

“You are,” Dwalin argued. “Everyone recognizes you as our King.”

Fíli forced a laugh out, “How can I be King? I failed Thorin and my brother,” Fíli’s voice wavered as fresh, hot tears streamed down his face again. “They are dead and there is nothing I can do about it.”

“You can live!” Dwalin shouted as he slammed his fist against the wall, startling the golden haired dwarf. “Live for them – stop shaming yourself on their deaths! It was not your fault and no one in this entire mountain blames you! So stop being so depressed and get on with your life! This Kingdom needs you, Fíli...” Dwalin fell silent, his eyes lingering on the dwarf before him. He whispered, “I need you...”

Fíli looked up at Dwalin, his heart aching in his chest as he thought about the Captain’s words, especially the latter. “I’m sorry, Dwalin. I’m not the same as I used to be...” Fíli answered, as much as it pained him.

“And that is okay. Everyone changes, lad. I know you miss them terribly and you blame yourself but you need to _stop_. Erebor needs a King and there is no other dwarf I know that can handle such a job.” The weapon’s master gave Fíli a smile. “Do not forget that your mother is here to help you with anything you need. Me, too. And we cannot forget Balin. I think he’s been going a little mad trying to handle the council by himself.”

Fíli cracked a smile at that. “I would like to see that, actually.” He even laughed a bit, at the thought of Balin going nuts with all the council members.

The golden haired King supposed that Dwalin was right. He has been moping for far too long and if Thorin were still here – he would want to restore Erebor to its former glory. He would not mop and wait around. Kíli would not, either. They were both strong and stubborn, it was time that Fíli acted as such...

Fíli glanced up to Dwalin, his blue eyes scanning the details and wrinkles in his face. “Thank you, Dwalin. I guess I needed this wake up call.” The golden haired King pushed his blankets off and gingerly swung his legs over the edge of his bed.

He sighed tiredly and wiped at the drying tears on his cheeks. Suddenly, he laughed. It started off as a giggle but the turned into full out laughter. Dwalin stood still, unsure of what to do. It made Fíli laugh harder. “I’m sorry, Dwalin,” He apologized again, “I just remembered something from when I was younger.”

Dwalin huffed, “Oh?”

Fíli stifled his giggles and looked away, slightly embarrassed. “When I was younger, there was one thing I never wanted to do and it seems I have failed that...” Dwalin cocked his head and Fíli continued, “You see, I swore to myself to never cry in front of you.”

Dwalin did not respond, did not know _how_ to respond. It only made it seem funnier, at least to Fíli, it did. Because there were countless times that he could have cried in front of the dwarven captain but Fíli was usually good at dealing with his emotions in public. He had to look strong, after all.

But know that Dwalin had given him a much needed pep-talk, Fíli knew he had to be strong. Strong for his mother, his people, and even strong for Dwalin. He is King now so he needed to act accordingly.

Fíli took a deep breath and released it slowly, clearing his head.

He got out of bed, wincing from the slight twinge of pain. Or perhaps it was the phantom pain – he never really knew anymore, to be honest. Fíli ignored the ache and stepped into Dwalin, surprising the older dwarf. He rest his head on his shoulder, mumbling, “Just let me stay like this for a while...”

Dwalin, who remained still for a few moments, finally relaxed and put his arms around the shorter dwarf. Fíli closed his eyes, wishing that he could stay like this forever; because long ago, the young dwarf developed a crush on the captain. Perhaps if things had been different he would have acted on those feelings but now that he was King, it could never be. Eventually, Fíli would need to take a wife and have an heir to secure the future of Erebor. But for right now – Fíli would enjoy these small moments with Dwalin because even though they were rare and short, he would keep them close in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely happy with this but then again, how can I be happy with something so sad? 😥
> 
> Hope you enjoyed? lol


	9. Balance - Dwalin/Legolas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas is sent by Thranduil to meet up with some dwarves from Erebor in order to bring them back to talk treaties and negotiations. The plan to show them the proper way through the forest is thrown into disarray when they are attacked and split up.

Legolas adjusted the reins on his horse and double checked that he had everything he needed. His horse whinnied softly and Legolas reached forward and ran his fingers down her mane, whispering calming words. “Take care, Prince Legolas,” One of the guard’s said to him.

“I will be back within the day,” Legolas told him. His tone had a hint of annoyance and the guard bowed his head, causing Legolas to feel somewhat bad for he was not annoyed with the guard – and more with the task that was given to him.

Legolas gave the reins a flick and his horse took off running. The elven prince turned and gave his home one last look before focusing on the trek before him. His father had given him the task of retrieving the dwarves at the borders of Greenwood. He asked why one of the guards were not capable of such a thing but the only words the great elven King gave him were that ‘it was more personable’.

The silvery-blond rolled his eyes and decided to keep an eye out for any spiders. Although since the Battle and since Lady Galadriel banishing the dark evil that is Sauron from Dol Guldur, there have been less sightings of spiders – which was a good thing. But Legolas still wanted to keep an eye out, just in case. The prince knew his father hoped that the woods would return to there former beauty and the forest would go back to being known as Greenwood the Great and not what the men nicknamed it – _Mirkwood_.

Legolas frowned. If he ever met the woodman who decided to call his home _Mirkwood_ would have to answer to him. His bubbling annoyance dissipated when a faint flutter in the distance made Legolas tense. He lightly pulled on the reins and his horse slowed down to a trot. Legolas scanned the area and tilted his head to listen but did not hear anything else. He hummed to himself and continued on his way.

Legolas kept his eyes glued to the path before him. He hoped that he would not have to wait long for the dwarves to arrive. He also hoped that they would pay attention to the path through the forest so he would not have to keep acting as a guide. He had other duties to attend to, after all. Legolas sighed.

The pathway led him down by the river before taking him up a slope that had a rocky edge. It was a small cliff that led down into the darker part of the forest, surrounding by more rocks and trees. The light was dim down there and Legolas narrowed eyes, imagining that all kinds of beasts could be waiting to spring a trap on any unsuspecting travelers. Luckily, he knew the layout of this forest well.

After a short while, Legolas finally made it to the edge of the Greenwood borders.

There was no sign of the dwarves and Legolas was not all that surprised. He expected them to be late but really hoped that they would not be too long. He would like to be back before dark. Legolas hopped off his steed and pet her after tying the reins to a thick branch. The elven Prince walked a few steps out from the forest and stared at the big, open field in front of him. He breathed in the fresh air and narrowed his eyes as he tried to find any sign of the dwarves.

Truthfully, his father had not informed him who or how many dwarves he would be meeting – so Legolas was left to guess. He supposed a few, in the least. Probably not the dwarven King himself but they still required a member of royalty so perhaps one of the princes? Legolas knew Fíli was the crown prince so the duty probably fell onto him, unless of course he had other duties to attend to – which would mean the next in line was Kíli.

Legolas narrowed his eyes at the thought of Kíli.

The dark haired, stubbly excuse for a dwarf was an annoyance. He did not understand what Tauriel saw in him at all, not one bit. But in the end, it was Kíli who put an end to whatever was happening between them. Legolas sighed as he leaned against a tree, still finding himself hoping that it was not Kíli who was coming to talk terms and negotiations.

As if on cue, Legolas spotted two dwarves travelling next to each other, on ponies. He narrowed his eyes and got a better look. The elven prince cursed softly when he realized that he must have jinxed himself because one of the riders was none other than Kíli.

Kíli and that bald-headed dwarf that would usually give him the dirtiest looks.

Legolas rolled his eyes. He did not know what he did to personally offend the dwarven warrior but either way he chose to ignore the death glares and petty, offensive mumbles he occasionally heard the dwarf spit out.

The elven prince remained in the shadows cast by the edge of the forest as he waited for the pair to arrive. In all honesty, Legolas did not know if he should be more surprised that only two came to talk about the treaty _or_ the fact that it was Kíli and the dwarven warrior who were sent. Thorin could have at least sent his advisor Balin or the crown Prince Fíli. But no – Legolas was stuck with these two.

The silvery-blond sighed softly. As the dwarves got closer, Legolas pushed himself off the tree and brushed his clothes off. He still needed to look tidy and professional; he was a prince, after all. He smoothed the wrinkles from his tunic and fixed part of his hair. The pair took a few moments longer until they were finally at the boarder’s edge.

Kíli blew part of his bangs from his face and reached up to wipe at the sweat on his brow. The dwarven warrior just took a drink from his water skin and chose to blatantly ignore Legolas. The corner of Legolas’ mouth curved upwards just a tad; because two could play at that game. “Prince Kíli, it seems you sure took your time coming here.”

“Well you try travelling in this heat!” Said Kíli.

“Perhaps if you dressed for summer and not winter you would have no troubles.” Legolas quipped, seeing as the two were wearing multiple layers. Although they were not as dressed up as when they had been his father’s prisoners.

“ _Wha-_ We are dressed for summer! See!” Kíli motioned to his rolled up sleeves to which Legolas simply raised an eyebrow at. The dark haired prince scoffed suddenly, “Unless you mean to ask to see me undress?” Kíli questioned.

“Please, no.” Legolas said with an eye roll. He turned around and freed the reins from the branch and climbed into the saddle before turning back to look at the two. “It will take another hour or so to get to the palace so I suggest we continue on – unless you want to miss dinner.”

Kíli gasped, “Never! Dwalin, let us be on our way.”

The dwarven prince clicked his tongue and ushered the pony on. The tattooed dwarf followed behind Kíli and passed Legolas, leaving the elf to watch the two. After a minute, Kíli came to a halt, nearly causing Dwalin to crash into him. Kíli turned to look at Legolas sheepishly, “Actually, you lead the way.”

Legolas briefly wondered if one could get a headache from so much eye-rolling. He put the thought aside as he lead his steed around the ponies and in front of their small group. The three went on their way, entering the vast forest of Greenwood with Legolas in the lead.

They managed to travel for at least ten minutes of silence before Kíli decided to open his mouth to talk about random things. Legolas barely paid him any attention, his eyes glued to the shadows within the forest. They were nearing a part of a rocky slope and once more Legolas had that feeling – again he heard a faint rustling noise but saw nothing. He began to wonder if he should be worried and just as he was about to say something – Kíli’s pony whinnied and came to a halt.

Legolas and Dwalin stopped as well, both looking to see what was up. “What’s wrong, girl?” Kíli whispered to his pony, rubbing her neck in a soothing manner. In spite of his attempts, his pony let another shrill whinny out before outright bolting off down the pathway. Before Legolas and Dwalin at the chance to register what had just happened or even think of following after, a dampened warg jumped out from the trees.

Legolas’ horse bucked and the loose earth beneath its feet gave away and crumbled, taking the pair down the slope. Meanwhile, the warg attacked Dwalin and his pony, knocking the two over. The pony managed to get to its feet and sprint away. Dwalin watched the pony disappear into the forest and cursed loudly as he grabbed his axe, turning his attention to the warg.

The warg growled at him, lowering itself as it was about to jump for it. Before it got the chance to attack, Legolas quickly shot an arrow into its eye. The warg cried out and backed away, pawing at its head. The beast was silenced by Dwalin embedding his axe in its head. “Keh, stupid beast.”

Dwalin freed his axe from the warg’s head and took a step back. The gravel beneath his feet crumbled, causing the tattooed dwarf to lose his balance and fall back down the slope. The dwarven warrior would have been fine if it had not been for Legolas’ horse suddenly dashing up the rocky slope, its iron hoof clipping his shoulder.

“Great,” Legolas muttered under his breath as he appeared next to the dwarf. His icy blue eyes scanned the area and widened when he saw bigger pieces of rocks roll down the slope. Legolas yelled, “Move!”

The elven prince shoved Dwalin who just managed to get to his feet further down the slope and into part of the forest river. Legolas skidded down, just barely managing to dodge the falling rocks. The elf breathed out, relieved that they managed to avoid the worst of the rock slide. The silvery-blond turned his attention away from the settling dust to Dwalin who stood in the shallow of the forest river, an un-amused look on his face.

Legolas matched his stare but was unable to help the smirk that tugged on the corner of his lips. He looked away, listening to the dwarf’s grumbles as he hauled himself out of the river. Legolas cleared his throat as he rest his bow against a rather large rock. “Shouldn’t you be thanking me, master dwarf?”

“ _For what!?_ Trying to drown me, you damned elfling?” Dwalin bit back, all glares and hostility.

Legolas hummed, “I was not trying to drown you – I saved your fragile, old body from being crushed in that rock slide.” The elven prince narrowed his eyes in turn at the dwarven warrior.

Dwalin snorted, “Fragile, huh?” He scoffed at that. “If anything, you are more frail and dainty-looking, you tree-hugger.”

“Tree-hugger?” Legolas repeated. “That’s a new one,” He commented offhandedly.

His comment only seemed to make the dwarf more mad, which Legolas only found more amusing. But rather than feeding into the urge to further annoy the dwarf, Legolas turned his attention to the top of the hill before surveying the area behind. They could chance climbing the slope but it could just get them into more danger or they could cross the forest river and take the longer way around. Legolas opted for the second.

Until he realized something. “Will Kíli be all right on his own?” Legolas asked, staring at Dwalin.

Dwalin stared at him before tearing his eyes away and looking to the ground. He was silent for a few moments until he muttered something under his breath, something that Legolas could not pick up, even with his heightened sense of hearing. “Sorry?” Legolas said.

“I said: He should be fine.” The grumpy warrior stated. “That’s all we can hope for, anyway.” Dwalin added, sounding as if he did not entirely believe his own words.

Legolas sighed and picked up his bow, “It’ll be safer to cross the forest river instead of trying to climb back up there.”

“Wouldn’t that take longer?” Dwalin complained.

“Yes, but like I said – it is safer. Unless you want to tumble down and injure yourself.” The elven prince stepped into the cold shallows of the river. He could hear Dwalin complaining under his breath yet again but he chose to ignore it. The dwarf followed behind him, muttering about how it did not make a difference since he was already wet from falling in earlier. Legolas smirked, but remained silent.

Luckily, the current was not that strong so the two managed to cross the river without much trouble. Legolas lead them through the shaded forest, repressing a shiver because the dark atmosphere was not helping the wet clothes that clung to their body. “This way will only take an extra twenty minutes.” The elf told Dwalin.

The sooner they got to his father’s palace, the better. Legolas wanted to change out of his wet clothes as soon as possible. Dwalin probably felt the same, although he was not sure if the dwarven warrior even brought any extra clothing, which meant the elves would have to give him something. It was not a problem, but still. Legolas sighed because there was also the matter of Kíli.

He hoped the scruffy excuse for a dwarf managed to stick to the marked pathways but then again it could get confusing and he could be lead astray because the pathway could sometimes be misleading. Luckily, after the disguised necromancer was banished from Dol Guldur, the magic on the forest lessened greatly.

Legolas looked at the steep incline they had to go up before they would be back on one of the lesser known pathways. He stepped carefully and paused to turn and watch Dwalin swear as he pulled a root free. The tattooed dwarf tossed it away and continued up the incline, taking the same steps Legolas took seeing as the elf was already at the top. Legolas even held his hand out to help Dwalin but the stubborn dwarf ignored it. Legolas rolled his eyes.

Dwalin took another step but the rock packed in the dirt gave away and he slipped. Legolas reacted quickly and took a hold of Dwalin’s flailing arm but the dwarf was too heavy so he ended up pulling Legolas down with him. The two tumbled down the incline and landed rather painfully at the bottom, next to the river’s edge.

Legolas was on top of the dwarven warrior, his hands braced on Dwalin’s chest and his eyes squeezed shut from the dizzying fall. He opened his icy blue eyes and stared at the dwarf under him, realizing that Dwalin had his arms wrapped around his waist and that their legs were tangled. Legolas shifted and the dwarf’s grip loosened on him. “I was not expecting to literally be dragged down with you,” The elven prince stated.

Dwalin snorted, “I guess all that stuff about elves being lighter than air are true, then. You’re built like a twig, and you weigh just about as much as one.” There was no hostility or anger behind his insult. “In fact, you’re too light.” He commented quietly.

“I am not _that_ light, you just think that because you are weighed down by armour and mus-...” Legolas fell silent. He frowned and looked anywhere other than Dwalin because he could practically _hear_ the smirk on the dwarf’s face.

“I’m sorry, what were you going on about now?” Dwalin asked, a hint of a teasing tone in his voice – something Legolas never heard expressed before. Usually it was always snarls and gruff threats with the tattooed warrior, not (dare he say) friendly banter.

Legolas bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to let his emotions get carried away with the dwarf. “It’s nothing,” He replied, intent on not letting the dwarf win this battle. Legolas sat back and wore an aloof expression, hiding the annoyance bubbling in his veins.

The elven prince was used to making the dwarf feel annoyed and out of sorts, not the other way around. The newfound anger and irritation with the dwarf lead to other new feelings; feelings that made him worry about the spark of excitement hidden underneath all the anger. The excitement bubbled underneath and it was just like the feeling of fighting someone of equal strength or even greater. That in itself made Legolas more angry because he still felt that this particular dwarf was beneath him.

Legolas drew a deep breath and released it slowly, trying to calm his emotions. He looked back to Dwalin and noticed that he was still partially on top of the dwarf. Said dwarf had a hand resting on his thigh and suddenly Legolas felt awkward, his face heated. Suddenly all the emotions of anger and annoyance were gone and replaced with an entirely different emotion. Embarrassment, perhaps?

Honestly, Legolas has rarely ever felt embarrassed. But _now –_ now he was embarrassed.

To make matters even worse, the sound of his rushing blood and thumping heart masked the sound of the rustling bushes behind them. It was not until he heard a confused voice calling out to them, alerting him that somehow Kíli managed to find them. Legolas looked back to see the dwarven prince emerging from the trees and bushes, staring at the two of them. His lips were parted by no words came out as his eyes remained glued to Legolas still on top of Dwalin.

Finally, after a moment of silence, Kíli’s mouth shut – and a smile graced his face. Legolas withheld the urge to groan because he knew what was coming next.

“Wow, so uh... If you two wanted to be alone you could have just said something.” Kíli sniffed as he walked and leaned against a tree. He crossed his arms, staring at the two with a pleasant smile on his face.

Legolas chose to ignore his words as he fully got off of Dwalin and instead asked the question on his mind. “How did you find us?”

Kíli’s smile fell. “Well, since my pony got freaked out and bolted, we got a little lost but eventually I heard the commotion and followed it down here. My pony is back up on the trail, though.” The brunette explained, glancing back up the way he came from.

Legolas huffed, “And here I thought you were going to get lost and have something bad happen to you.”

“Hey,” Kíli quipped, “I’m not that dumb. Like you two.” He added. The dwarven prince watched Dwalin straighten himself out and turned around. “We can go up this way, it looks easier than what you two were trying to climb. Also, why are you wet?” He gave them a quizzical stare.

Legolas sighed, “Let’s just be on our way.” He motioned for Kíli to lead the way back up the hill, following after the dwarf. Dwalin followed behind them, using his axe as a cane on the steeper parts of the incline. This time, he was being more careful with his footing.

No one wanted a repeat of what transpired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what this was - I got about 1500 words in and still was not sure where I was going with it, so you get this end result. xD
> 
> Spread the Dwalin/Legolas love! ♥
> 
> I might write some Thorin/Legolas for next chapter, we'll see ☺♥


	10. Anger - Thorin/Legolas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and a few others are invited to the Woodland Realm for Celebrations and business matters. While roaming around, Thorin runs into Legolas and can't decide whether he should be angry or feeling things he shouldn't be for the elfling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This is set a couple years after the Battle of Five Armies! Also, sorry it took a while to update - I've been feeling depressed lately 😅 But it's almost my birthday so yay-_

Thorin’s head was tilted to the sky, watching the fluffy, white clouds above float effortlessly in the soft blue plane. He was content, despite the constant bickering between his two nephews, Fíli and Kíli. The two had been arguing since they left first thing and Thorin just learned to block them out after multiple attempts of keeping them quiet. Honestly, Thorin did not even know what they were arguing about to begin with. He spared a quick glance to Balin who was on his left but it appeared the older dwarf was also tuning them out.

The King of Erebor turned so he could look at Dwalin who was riding behind him. His shield-brother had his eyes cast to the sky and a look of annoyance on his face. He seemed to be trying to block out their bickering but he was having a hard time. Thorin felt somewhat bad. And responsible.

“Fíli, Kíli! It will still be a few hours until we reach Mirkwood so perhaps you should save your voices for when we get there?” Thorin suggested, although it came out in more of a demanding tone. He supposed if he really needed to, he could just order them to be silent but he was there uncle...

The golden haired prince tore his gaze away from his brother, his durin blue eyes landing on Thorin. “Sorry, uncle.” He apologized quickly, already aware of the tone in Thorin’s voice.

Kíli, on the other hand, did not pick up on the hint.

“But, uncle!” The younger prince interjected with a whine, “Fí said that I–”

“I do not care what Fíli said! You two will stop arguing _immediately_.” Thorin’s voice rumbled.

Kíli’s shoulders shrunk under the stern voice and he shut his mouth, his lips forming a pout. Fíli rolled his eyes at his brother but the two remained silent. Dwalin, on the other hand, whispered, “ _Finally_ , some peace and quiet.”

Thorin held back his smirk as they continued on their journey.

The sun was high in the sky, so it was probably early afternoon. They group from Erebor left an hour before daylight so they were making good time and if they managed to continue on with no further interruptions, then they should arrive in Mirkwood within the evening. Thorin nodded to himself, glad of their impeccable time.

After all, the last time they visited the elven King’s realm, the day was long gone and the stars blanketed the sky. This time, however, _will_ be different.

➳ ☪ ➳

When the five dwarves reached the edge of the Greenwood, Balin took the lead and lead them down the forest path marked with special markers. He was the one to remember all the markers and paths to tread, which ones were correct and which were false. Thorin was lucky to have Balin, his trusted advisor. If not – if things were left to him – they would surely be lost by now since admittedly he was bad with directions. Not to mention the elder was good with words and always knew what to say.

So it was no surprise when they ended up in front of the gates to Thranduil’s realm in due time. The sun had yet to set, judging from the streaks of warm light pooling in from spaces between the leaves above. Thorin gave a nod, happy over the fact that they made it before dusk.

One of the two guards placed at the palace doors stepped forward and welcomed the small group. The other opened the doors and beckoned the dwarves inside, closing it once they were all inside. Thorin looked around and spotted Thranduil’s son, Legolas, walking up to them.

Next to him, Thorin could feel Dwalin tense. He patted the warrior’s shoulder and cleared his throat, “Your King invited us and yet he is not hear to greet us?” Thorin asked, his durin blue eyes staring into the elf’s crystal blue orbs.

There was a slight twitch in Legolas’ eye but other than that he kept his emotions in check as he replied, “My apologies but my King is preoccupied at the moment.” With that, the elven prince turned on his heel and lead the group down the walkway.

“You will be staying in the same rooms as last time, if that is no trouble.”

“Wait, can me and Fí switch rooms?” Kíli asked, shouldering past his brother and up next to Legolas. Fíli gave him a small glare from being pushed but otherwise remained quiet, not really caring which room he ended up in. Although he was curious for Kíli’s reasoning.

Legolas looked down at Kíli, an eyebrow raised. “Why do you need to switch?”

“Uh,” Kíli faltered in his steps, nearly tripping. He quickly collected himself and matched Legolas’ pace once more. “No particular reason... I just like it more?” The elf gave the dwarven prince a look and Kíli sighed. “Okay, fine, Fí’s room is closer to the bathroom and this place is creepy at night time...”

Legolas stopped walking, nearly causing Thorin to walk into him. “Creepy?” He echoed.

Before Kíli could respond, Fíli interjected. “Kí, is this because I told you to stop bothering me at night?”

“Erm, no?” Kíli winced.

Thorin shook his head. “Kíli, do you wake your brother up just so he can take you to the bathroom when we are here?” He had to know.

Kíli huffed, “So what if I do! I got lost last time and then there was this creepy noise and I got freaked out and got even more lost...”

“You know I don’t really mind, Kí.” Fíli said softly, just wanting to be useful to his younger brother – even if it was for simply walking him to the bathroom. Kíli gave him a sheepishly look while Thorin sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You are not a child anymore, Kíli.” He scolded lightly.

“I know!” Kíli said.

Dwalin cut in, “Thorin, you _did_ also get lost our first time here on the way to the bathroom.” The tattooed dwarf smirked while Balin just sighed, seeing as this whole thing was getting out of control. Thorin turned and glared at Dwalin.

“That is not important!” The King snapped.

“Wait, you too, uncle?” The brown haired dwarf balked at that.

Thorin turned his attention from Dwalin back to his younger sister-son, “No, well – _yes_ , but the important thing is I learned the layout of this accursed kingdom and so should you. Your brother will not always be there to hold your hand.” He huffed.

Kíli paled. “Is Fíli going somewhere? Without me?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Kí. Uncle is just being stubborn.” The blond haired dwarf patted his brother’s back. He pulled the younger dwarf forward and continued on their way. “Let us just get settled in our rooms, and yes – you can have my room.” With that, the siblings disappeared down the hall, leaving Legolas with the three older dwarves.

“Sorry about that,” Balin apologized on behalf of everyone. “It’s been a long day of travel.”

Legolas smirked, “No, it was... interesting. And amusing.” The elf turned his gaze to the King Under the Mountain.

Thorin narrowed his eyes in turn, knowing that the elfling was making fun of him in some sort of way. He could see it in his eyes. Behind all the ice and stoic nature they held, sparkled something like curiosity and mischief. Thorin found it maddening, somewhat.

The dwarven King took a breath and calmed his emotions. Legolas left them to get settled in their rooms after telling them that dinner would be within the next couple hours. Balin and Dwalin disappeared into their own rooms and Thorin could already hear his nephews bickering once more in one of the rooms. Suddenly, he was glad that only a small group came for the Elven celebration – if he bothered to bring everyone in the company along, it would surely turn into a shit show.

After an hour passed, Thorin found himself leaving his room and walking down the vast halls and walkways in the elven King’s realm. The halls were lit with lanterns and torches, decorated for the celebrations to come.

The dark haired dwarf found himself going down a hall and up a flight of stairs which lead to a garden outside. The trees above parted to let moonlight shine into the garden, illuminating the area with a soft light. There was a round fountain with an old looking willow tree in the middle of the garden and it would have been nice if it was not for the elf sitting at the edge of the fountain.

“Did you get lost on your way to the bathroom?” Legolas asked quietly, not taking his attention away from the braid he was currently securing with a small elastic.

Thorin scoffed, “No. I was just looking around and ended up here.” In retrospect, Thorin knew he should have left the elfling, but no – he had to stay and explain himself. In his mind, he cursed himself. Clearing his throat, Thorin thought that he may as well excuse himself since Legolas seemed busy attending to his hair at the moment. But just as he was about to announce his departure, the elf spoke up again.

“Were you trying to snoop around for something of value, perhaps?” Legolas asked once he brushed all his hair back and out of his face. “I would not recommend stealing from those you are trying to befriend.”

Thorin knew he should have let it go; that he should leave – but of course the stubbornness in him said otherwise. The elf’s assumption and the following words made his blood boil, “And what exactly do you mean by ‘ _befriend_ ’? Are we not allies?”

Legolas stood and stared down at the dwarven King, “Allies, yes. Friends? I am not so sure.” The elfling gave a small shrug of his shoulder. “I am assuming that you wish to be on more friendly terms with my father, other than just allies teetering on the edge of enemy and acquaintances.”

“We are not enemies anymore,” Thorin said through his teeth.

Legolas nodded, “Precisely – which is why my father bothered to invite you all here for one of our celebrations.” The silvery-blond haired elf stepped closer to Thorin, closing the distance between the two of them. “Tell me, Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain,” The elf’s voice dropped to that of a whisper, sending a chill down the dwarf’s spine.

The archer’s soft and nimble fingers ran through the wavy strands of Thorin’s hair, making the dwarven King tense under the sudden touch. Thorin could feel his heart pound in his chest. He tried to calm his nerves; lest the elf hear the racing of his heart and make a comment about it. Thorin cleared his throat and raised his blue orbs to peer into Legolas’ icy blue eyes as he waited for the elfling to continue.

“Do you even know what we are celebrating?” Legolas asked quietly as he stared at the greying strands of hair amongst the dark locks of the dwarf.

Admittedly, Thorin did not. The dwarven King tore his eyes away and instead fixated his stare on the chunk of hair being held prisoner by the elf. Thorin finally muttered his response, “No.”

Legolas smirked as he gave a small tug on the hair, choosing not to comment when Thorin’s breath hitched. “Put in simpler terms, it is a celebration of our elders – of the feats they accomplished and the respect they deserve.” As Legolas explained, he twirled a lock of Thorin’s hair around his finger and it made the dwarf’s glare waver.

“Then I am glad to be apart of this celebration,” Thorin told the elfling as he reached up and freed his hair from Legolas’ grasp. He brushed it over his shoulder and huffed. “Also do you not understand dwarven customs? Touching my hair is- _is–_ ”

There was a mischievous twinkle in the elf’s eyes as he tilted his head, “Is what?” Legolas asked, voice still low in a whisper.

Thorin narrowed his eyes in response, “It is something _private_ , done only between family or...” The King Under the Mountain fell silent, his cheeks warming from just the thought of it. “ _It-_... Never mind. Just don’t touch any dwarf’s hair...” Thorin muttered.

Any anger and annoyance he felt earlier was gone entirely, replaced by a feeling he had not felt since his younger days. Perhaps it was the enchanting way the elfling spoke or the subtle touches that allured Thorin. In any case, it left the dwarf feeling odd – feeling things that he should not be feeling for an elf, no less.

The shuffling movement brought his attention back to Legolas and out of his thoughts. Thorin looked up and cleared his throat, averting his eyes once Legolas’ lips parted. “It is late; you should get your rest for tomorrow will hold much excitement.”

Thorin scoffed at that. “I am no dwarfling that requires a bed time,” The King mumbled under his breath.

Legolas smirked. “Are you just saying that because you want to spend more time with me or because you are lost and do not know the way back to your quarters?”

“I- I know the way,” Thorin argued as he glared at the elf. The dwarf’s glare softened as he tore his eyes away from the ethereal being, “But perhaps you should show me the way, just in case.”

“I can do that,” Said Legolas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't notice, it's my head-cannon that Thorin gets lost easily/is bad with directions. xD I mean, he did get lost twice on his search for Bilbo's house lol
> 
> Also! Don't take my word for the Elves' celebration because I know nothing about their celebrations (other than the one put in the Hobbit movie), so yeah... I kinda made one up. 👀


	11. Murder - Kíli/Legolas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli’s first solo trip to the Woodland Realm is murder. First he manages to lose his pony, then he gets stuck trudging through the mud because the weather decided to be nasty, now he is lost in Mirkwood – soaking wet, hungry and tired. The only good thing about this trip was being found by none other than the Prince of Mirkwood, Legolas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone said more Kíli or Thorin paired with Legolas – so here you go. ლ(´ڡ`ლ)

Kíli groaned as he plopped down under a tree.

The tree at least blocked most of the rain from him but he could still feel the dampness from the earth seeping in his pants. At this point, he was already soaked and covered in mud and twigs – so he couldn’t bring himself to care. Kíli reached up to wipe the droplets of rain dripping from the strands of his brown locks and sniffed. The dwarf paused and wiped at his nose.

While dwarves were not prone to get sick easily, when they did it was pretty bad.

Kíli sighed. Because sure, that was all he needed now; to get sick. All he wanted to do was make it to Mirkwood before nightfall. But no – that plan backfired when he stopped to take a small break. Kíli tied his pony up – or so he thought – to a tree, in order to go an empty his bladder in the bushes where it was private. Although, technically, it wasn’t like the pony could say anything or judge him, right?

By the time he returned, his pony was gone, no where to be seen. Kíli attempted to follow the tracks but then the weather took a turn for the worse and immediately began pouring rain. The rain washed all the tracks away so eventually after another ten minutes of blindly searching for his pony, Kíli gave up. He continued on his way to the Greenwood forest and managed to make it there within another hour.

Which brings him to his current predicament.

Kíli brushed the wet pieces of hair from his face and leaned against the tree trunk. The brunette wiped his face and exhaled softly, watching the little puff of his breath dissipate in the air. He licked his lips and peered around the area, suddenly wishing that he took notes or even drew up a little map before he left Erebor. Now that he was alone in the Greenwood forest, in the dark with heavy rain blanketing the surroundings, Kíli was not sure where to go or how to start.

He briefly thought that maybe if he wandered around long enough he might happen upon the trail, if he could even make out the trail in the downpour. Or maybe the elves will notice that he has yet to arrive and send a search party out for him. While it may be embarrassing, it was the best Kíli could hope for.

The dwarven Prince found himself wishing that he wasn’t such an idiot. He knew he could make silly decisions but that was only because he was stubborn and brash. Kíli sighed and balled up his fists, his anger getting the better of him. He hit the ground next to him blindly, then again. The brown eyed dwarf swung blindly but at least it felt better releasing all his built up anger and frustration. He turned and went to punch the ground once more but in the darkness of the trees his fist connected with a root sticking up out of the earth.

“OW!” Kíli hissed as he pulled his hand back. He cradled his fist against his chest and cursed his stupidity once more. Just when he began to think of how everything could possibly get worse, he heard a squelching noise. His head snapped to the right, suddenly alert, “Hello?” Kíli called.

A figure came out of the darkness and Kíli squinted his eyes, as if it would help any. He reached up and blocked the rain from hitting his face and tilted his head when he saw blond hair. Confused, but pleasantly surprised, “Legolas?” The dwarf questioned.

The elven prince stepped forward, underneath the tree Kíli sat under. He lowered his hood and stared down at the brown haired dwarf for a brief moment, before looking around the surrounding area. “Did you get lost?” Legolas finally spoke, his icy blue eyes focused back on the dwarf before him.

Kíli ducked his head and scratched his chin, seeing that the question was unavoidable. “Yes,” He admitted quietly. “But, funny story – my pony ran off and the weather got worse, then I got lost. Heh...”

“Very amusing.” Legolas rolled his eyes but held his hand out to the dwarf.

The dwarven Prince took the offered hand and held back a wince as Legolas pulled him up to his feet. Kíli grinned, “I was hoping someone would come looking for me. I just never thought it would be you, though.” He shrugged nonchalantly as he followed in the elf’s footsteps.

Legolas lead them down a narrow pathway between trees, the rain mostly blocked from the leaves and branches above. “Is it a problem if it’s me?” Asked Legolas.

Kíli faltered. “Well, no...” He chuckled awkwardly. “I guess I’m just saying that I’m glad it’s you...”

The silvery-blond haired elf furrowed his brow in confusion. “Why?” He asked. “Wouldn’t you prefer anyone but me? Tauriel, even?”

Kíli looked away. “Can we maybe not talk about Tauriel?” Honestly, he was still sore about what happened months ago. But then again, maybe it was for the best – because after all, it made him realize certain things about his feelings and his heart. Kíli glanced at the elf beside him and scratched his cheek, suddenly feeling shy.

“Fine,” Legolas replied airily.

He lead Kíli further through the forest and the deeper they ventured, the more the rain dissipated. Only because the trees overshadowed the area and blocked most of the droplets from getting through, Kíli noticed. Which, of course, he was fine with. Considering he was already soaked to the bone from the heavy rainfall.

The dwarven Prince brushed his hair from his face and glanced back at the elf, studying his face. Well, what he could see from his point of view – which was mostly Legolas’ side profile. The sharp yet soft features and his cold but hauntingly beautiful eyes – yes, he was indeed currently the one Kíli was in love with. Not Tauriel. Not after how she crushed his heart into tiny, little pieces which she proceeded to step all over. Although, Kíli guesses that he should have seen it coming. Perhaps he should even thank her because in the end – it helped him realize his feelings for someone else.

Kíli sniffed and wiped at his nose.

“Are you getting sick?” Legolas turned his pale blue eyes to the dwarf.

“Uhm, I hopefully not,” Kíli sighed. “Normally we’re tougher than that but when we do get sick it can get pretty serious.”

“I see,” Legolas returned to staring ahead of them, leading the way to his father’s realm. “It will take about ten more minutes.” The elven Prince paused momentarily to slide a bag from his shoulder. Kíli blinked and stared at it because he had not even realized the elf had it with him to begin with. Legolas pulled a cloak out and shook it out before handing it over to Kíli.

The brown eyed dwarf took it slowly, staring at the cloak as if it were some ancient relic he needed to be most careful with. Legolas eyed him, probably thinking that Kíli was odd – but Kíli was okay with that. He took off his wet, rain-soaked clock and put the new one on. It immediately warmed him and he sighed, happy. “Thanks,” Kíli murmured.

“It’s nothing,” Legolas replied, missing the mere second where the smaller male beside him sniffed the cloak.


	12. Medicine - Dwalin/Legolas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwalin, along with a handful of others, is visiting the Mirkwood Elves in celebration of King Thranduil’s birthday. The weapon’s master takes an interest in the elves’ training grounds and weaponry – and makes the mistake of accidentally poisoning himself.

“Keh,” Dwalin cast the bow aside, ignoring the clatter as it toppled off the table and onto the stone floor of the weapon’s room. Bows and archery were such elven (and Kíli) thing. He wanted to see real weapons! Close range weapons; daggers, swords, spears, axes – whatever else the elves had.

The warrior scanned the various weapons, frowning when most were just swords and arrows and bows. He had yet to find anything unique or different. Although he supposed he should have not expected anything big since these were elves they were talking about. But still, in all his years, Dwalin had yet to see anything similar to his knuckle dusters.

He sighed.

Dwalin turned around and was about to take his leave of the weapon’s room until he saw the elfling Prince standing by the door. Well, more like leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed and a neutral expression on his face. Cocky and arrogant, as usual. “Do I need a babysitter or something?” Dwalin snorted.

Could the elves at least trust them a little bit? It was not like all dwarves were here to steal their precious belongings. Dwalin crossed his arms over his chest as the elf was doing and fixed the silvery-blond with a glare as he waited for a response.

“Not at all,” Legolas replied coolly once he pushed himself off the door frame. He sauntered towards the tattooed dwarf, stopping to look at the smaller weapons Dwalin was standing by. “I just happened to be passing by when I heard someone in here. Is it so wrong that I got curious as to who it was parading around our weapons room?”

Dwalin huffed, “First of all, I wasn’t _parading_ around the room. Second, well...” The dwarven warrior fell silent because he did not really have a second point – other than curiosity. “Perhaps I was just curious as to what kind of weapons the elves kept in stock.”

“Anything to your liking?” Legolas asked after a moment of consideration.

Dwalin smirked, “Not at all. Pretty much what I expect from a bunch of tree-huggers.” If the elven Prince was offended by Dwalin’s insult he did nothing to show it. Instead, Dwalin watched the silvery-blond elfling leave his side and walk to a wooden door which was intricately carved in the corner of the weapons room. Dwalin raised his brow.

“We have our more dangerous weapons in here.” Legolas told the dwarf.

Dwalin could feel the ravenous grin grow on his face. “Well,” The dwarven warrior began, “Don’t be shy, show me that you all aren’t little tree-hugging fairies.”

Legolas narrowed his eyes but did not say anything in retort. Dwalin resisted the urge to laugh and instead followed the elf to the locked door, wondering if he would indeed let Dwalin in. The dwarf was curious as to whether or not his insults would get the elfling – even though they both knew it was a blatant lie.

Dwalin saw first hand what the elfling could do to his enemies. It even still burned him inside when he thought about how the elf used him as a stepping stone during their barrel escape in the river. Dwalin took a moment to take a deep, calming breath. He did not want to get angry and say something he could not take back. Or do anything worse than that.

When he collected himself, Dwalin glanced up at the elfling, his brow raised. “So?”

Legolas eyed him for a moment but took a step forward as he pulled a small ring of keys out. There were only a few keys, probably the most important ones that a Prince required – but still. Dwalin watched as Legolas selected the right key and inserted it into the keyhole, twisting it around until they heard a faint _click._ Legolas stepped back once he removed the key and the door opened inwards, revealing a stone staircase that lead down further into the earth.

“After you,” The elven Prince turned his icy-blue orbs to Dwalin.

Dwalin swallowed and stepped around the elf, muttering under his breath as he made his way down the stairs. As the light from the weapons room faded, the candles in the lanterns along the walls lit up randomly. Dwalin stared, wondering what sort of magic the elves cast on this place.

Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, Dwalin looked around the room. He could see various different weapons: stylized swords from the First Age, detailed staffs and spears, and even more obscure weapons. “These are certainly different.” Dwalin commented as he eyed the sharp edge of a spear decorated with feathers.

He walked up to a table covered with smaller weaponry, noticing the faint dust that coated the weapons. Dwalin selected a random weapon from the table and picked it up. He held it by the small handle which protruded a thin, long needle. The dwarf studied the small weapon, wondering why the elves had such a strange thing. He held it up in the light from the lanterns and squinted his eyes as the glare reflected in his eyes.

“Be careful with that,” Legolas’ soft voice pulled him from his studies.

Dwalin snorted. “Why? What is this puny little thing gonna do? Poke a hole in my shirt?” The dwarven warrior chuckled. He brought it closer and wiped his finger along the handle and needle shaft to clean the dust from it.

As his finger reached the tip of the needle, Legolas spoke up again, this time sounding more urgent - “Wait!” He snapped.

The tip of the needle grazed his finger, stinging him. Dwalin jolted and moved his hand away, staring at his finger. A small, red droplet of blood emerged and trickled down his finger. It rolled off and fell onto the ground. From behind him, Legolas sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Suddenly, a terrible feeling settled in Dwalin’s gut and for once he thought that he should have listened to the elf. He swallowed and put the small weapon back in its place before turning back to Legolas.

“What was that?” Dwalin asked.

He narrowed his eyes at the elf who appeared to be swaying slowly from side to side. Dwalin frowned and shook his head, making Legolas sway even more – until he realized that it was in fact _him_ that was swaying, not Legolas. Dwalin tried to still himself as he focused on a spot on the ground. His heart was beating faster than normal, he noted – and he was beginning to sweat. The tattooed dwarf glanced to the fire lantern, which ended up being a terrible mistake because he made his head reel. “Oh...” That was the last thing he muttered before collapsing on the ground.

♦ ♦ ♦

Dwalin opened his eyes and immediately regretted his decision.

The dwarf reached up and blocked out the blinding light which made his head ache profusely. He groaned and rolled onto his side, moving gingerly because his body felt sore, stiff, and heavy. When the light was not bothering him anymore, Dwalin finally cracked his eyes open. He blinked a couple times and realized that he must be in the elves infirmary – judging by the medical supplies and sick beds in the brightly lit room.

He head faint footsteps approaching so he turned his head and noticed the silvery-blond elf standing next to his bed. Dwalin parted his lips as he asked, “What happened exactly?”

Legolas ducked his head, hiding the faint smile on his face. “You-... _fainted_ , I guess.”

“Fainted?” Dwalin repeated, scoffing.

The elven Prince nodded. “Technically, you poisoned yourself – with that needle.” Legolas explained as he took a seat next to the bed. He brushed the strands of hair that fell in his face behind his ear and stared at the dwarf. “I brought you here and gave you the antidote. You’re welcome.”

Dwalin furrowed his eyebrows. “I never said thanks.” He huffed indifferently. He thought back to the needle weapon and resisted the urge to start complaining. Because if he did so, then he would look like an idiot (not that he already didn’t look like one) in front of the elfling – all because he had to mock the small weapon and treat it like it was nothing special. Yet here he was, bedridden because of a little poison. Dwalin sighed.

Legolas got up and walked to a tray, taking a moment to pour water into a cup. He handed it to Dwalin, who accepted it begrudgingly. The elf watched Dwalin take a shaky sip. The icy blue eyed Prince turned and walked to a cabinet with various vials and herbs. He plucked a small vial filled with a dark blue substance and walked back to the dwarf.

The elf took his seat and handed the vial to Dwalin.

Dwalin stared at the vial, taking it slowly and warily. “What is this? More poison?” He knew he probably should not be joking – but he had to distract himself. He popped the cork off the vial and sniffed the liquid. It was odorless, which was probably the best bet for poison – although he knew that Legolas would not poison him.

After all, the elves and dwarves all worked so hard to maintain and strengthen the alliance they formed after the Battle.

If Legolas was put off or offended by his words, he did nothing to show it. Instead, the elf simply took the vial from him with a brief roll of his eyes and poured a drop onto his finger. “It’s medicine, actually.”

Dwalin watched the dark blue liquid roll off Legolas’ finger before flicking his dark green eyes back to the elfling. “I thought you already gave me the antidote.” Dwalin said, puzzled.

Legolas nodded, “I did.” He told the dwarf. Legolas tilted the vial and a few more drops came out, coating his finger. “But this medicine is different. It will help with a faster recovery.” With that, the elf put his finger between Dwalin’s parted lips.

Dwalin faltered. He was shocked over the elf simply sticking his pale, nimble finger in his mouth – but he was also disgusted by the horrid taste of the medicine he was forcibly feeding him. It was extremely bitter and made Dwalin wish that it was as tasteless as it was odorless.

The door in front of them opened, revealing Thorin.

The dwarven King looked up and froze. His durin blue orbs focused on Dwalin, then on the finger still in his mouth, and followed it to Legolas. Thorin looked away after a pregnant pause, scratching his beard. Thorin cleared his throat, muttering an apology, “Sorry, the healer said you were awake. I, _uh..._ Did not mean to interrupt.”

Dwalin watched helplessly as Thorin turned around and closed the door softly.

Legolas finally pulled his finger from the dwarf’s mouth, wiping the saliva away with a wet cloth. “Is something wrong?” He asked nonchalantly.

Dwalin sputtered, “What do you mean _is something wrong_!? Thorin _just_ , he saw, _you-!_ I-...” Dwalin groaned and slapped his hand to his face. “Never mind.” The dwarf leaned back into the bed, deciding that he may as well enjoy the comfort for a bit longer.

He could always find Thorin later and explain – although he will need to leave out a few details...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno why I'm so happy this managed to get 1000 hits,  
> but thanks for all the kudos, comments, and love! :3
> 
> Let me know if there is anyone else you'd like  
> to see paired with Legolas or Fíli (/▽＼*)｡o○♡


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